Growing a Heart
by kenderling
Summary: This is a story about changes and growing and all the fun little inner-layers involved. Finished.
1. Delaware

Disclaimer: Most of these loverly people are not mine except for Ariana and several others to follow. As others have stated it quite nicely: anybody/thing that you don't recognize is mine. Paws off or you will only have stumps left. All of them belong to Margaret Weis and C.S. Friedman. Blah blah.  
  
AN: Okay, this is a Mary Ann or Sue Beth or whatever bleeding backwater/mid-west name you give these things, for those of you who like to know ahead of time what you are getting yourselves into. It does attempt at a plot though (small raw turnipy-thing waves an under-developed arm). The whole reason for this (flourishes hand vaguely) is to give my character a beginning because I just started writing these fanfics that are lying in my room (somewhere) and my good friend pointed out that we never knew how I ended up with Raistlin... it just happened... like magic (groans at pun and slaps forehead). Eventually, there is a Pretender theme that drifts in, but not until later. So there you have it... read on and please review so I can know if I should continue typing this or leave it written and unfinished in my notebook.   
  
Chapter 1: Delaware  
  
Ariana looked at the kender in front of her apprehensively. He was, and had been, talking incessantly for the past few minutes about how fantastic it had been when her grandfather had dematerialized. So this was her uncle, her father's half-brother. Actually, she pondered, was he really her uncle or was it half-uncle, or did it not even count? At any rate, she would call him 'uncle' because that just made everything a whole lot easier. She realized suddenly that the kender had stopped talking and was looking expectantly at her, as if waiting for her to answer.  
  
Frantically, she thought back to what he had said... something about going now to meet the friends of his... "Yes," she told him, hoping she had given him the answer he was looking for.  
  
A grin split his face, "Alright!" He tugged her off, down the road, babbling on about the people she was to meet. She tried to listen, but she was nervous and he was talking awfully fast. Almost as fast as a gnome, she considered, then took it back. Gnomes slurred everything together; all this kender was doing was skipping from one topic to another. Within five minutes they reached the enormous trees they'd been going towards. The sun was getting lower in the sky and lit everything up in one final hurrah of the day. She glanced up and realized that their destination was surely in the treetops, for not a house was seen on the ground. Great spiraling staircases wound around the large tree trunks and rope bridges connected the trees into a large web-like network. Ariana shuddered. The height of this town was terrifying.   
  
The kender in front of her, whose name she remembered was Tasselhoff, began to climb up the stairway of one of the huge trees. With a wince, she followed, trying her best not to look down between the spaces of each step; she'd never managed to get over her childhood fear of slipping between the cracks, no matter that this was improbable.   
  
Ari and Tas were out of breath half way up and wheezing by the time they reached the top. They paused for a moment, to regain their breath, before stepping into the open doorway of the Inn of the Last Home, as the establishment was called.   
  
Immediately Tas waived his hands in a hello, dashing towards a large, robust man. "Caramon!" he squeaked, hugging the man around the middle. "See? I've brought her! It's my half-niece that I told you about and that you were interested in to paint that mural on the inn wall? Right? Well, she's here now! Finally! Even though I guess it didn't take that long." Tasselhoff let go and gestured for Ariana to come over.   
  
Ari timidly approached the two. "Hi," she greeted softly, "Um, your steps are broken. You can see between them to the ground. Maybe you should look into getting them fixed."  
  
Caramon gave her a puzzled look before laughing at what he thought to be a joke. He extended his hand, "My name's Caramon Majere."  
  
"Ariana Green," she returned, taking his hand gingerly and wincing as he pumped her hand, nearly dislocating her shoulder.   
  
"Let me introduce my friends. We are the ones to be painted in the mural-Tas did tell you about it, right?" At her assent, he led her to a table surrounded by a group. "This is Tanis, Laurana, Goldmoon, Riverwind, Raistlin, my twin, and my wife is the beautiful red-head serving the patrons. Friends, this is Ariana."  
  
"Where are the others? Weren't there... three more?" Ari asked, scanning the group.  
  
The Companions shot each other glances. "Well," the bearded man called Tanis began, "There were. But two... died, and the third betrayed our company."  
  
"I want to hear the story. All of it. How you met, what happened to make you so famous, how your companions died and how you were betrayed. I need to hear this to know you."  
  
"It's a long, long story," Goldmoon warned, eyes shifting to Tanis.   
  
Tanis, the half-elf nodded, "Right. You wouldn't want to hear it."  
  
Ariana looked searchingly at the group. She could feel the sorrow and dark emotions seeping from them. "You've never told it before, have you? You haven't even spoken of it much in passing between yourselves and not to anyone else. The triumph and the hurt, especially the hurt, is still too fresh."  
  
Laurana frowned, "Are you reading our minds?"  
  
"Just your hearts," Ari whispered, "So do I get to hear the story or do I go home?"  
  
The group looked around at each other. A few shrugged, others looked to Tanis, the unofficial leader. "I for one," he began, "would like to get this off my chest. No one knows what really happened other than us-and some of us don't even know the whole story."  
  
"We need to put Sturm and Flint to rest," added Goldmoon, "I would like to do it this way."  
  
"Yes, once we speak about it, things will seem a little better. It will become easier to tell people about," consented Laurana, the elf woman.   
  
"It's a take better told in daylight hours," hissed Raistlin, the thin mage, from his corner. "Why don't we save it for tomorrow?"  
  
Caramon nodded, always agreeable, "Besides-it's dinnertime!" he turned to Ariana, "You'll eat with us?"  
  
She shook her head, "I've already eaten, it's a lot earlier where I'm from. Which is why I've come so late in the day. Grandpa didn't remember the time difference."  
  
Laurana's brow creased slightly, "Where are you from?"  
  
"Delaware," Ari answered, squirming slightly. She wasn't sure how much she should tell them. Grandpa hadn't instructed her in any way to deal with questions-which meant that there weren't specific instructions not to tell them anything. She just didn't want to tell them something she shouldn't have and get yelled at later.   
  
She was saved from further explaining when, who she assumed was Tika, came up, "Are you going to keep her standing here, Caramon, or shall I take her up to our place and let her put her things down?"  
  
Caramon flushed and nodded, "Yeah, sorry. I was just introducing her to the rest of the companions. I can take her there now." He took the bag Ari was carrying and motioned her to follow. She grimaced as he traveled a series of rope bridges across the way to a small house.  
  
Once inside, he led her past the kitchen to a hall and then into a room on the left.  
  
"Here it is," he told her, "Tika and I are across the hall from you. For a couple nights Raistlin will be in the room next to you then he goes back to his own place."  
  
"Where's that?" Ari asked conversationally, dropping her backpack on the bed and rummaging through it.   
  
"Tower of High Sorcery."  
  
"He's not well liked, is he?" she asked, feeling his cold tone.  
  
Caramon shook his head, "No, he's hard to like. I love him, though. Even if he's changed so much, he's still my little brother."  
  
Ari nodded, "I've got people like that. Where I come from people are scared to death of them, so well-liked or not, they are respected."  
  
"Yeah, it's like that here. Everyone's scared of Raist, and for good reason; he's done some pretty awful things." The large man paused, arms folded, lost in thought.  
  
Ari touched his arm tentatively, "Hey, I'm sorry for asking. Are you all right?"  
  
A smile touched his lips, "Yeah, I'm just re-living things. Come on, I'm hungry." With that they left they house and made their way back to the Inn. They entered just as Tika was setting out dinner for everyone. Caramon caught her up as she set the last plate down, kidding her neck and mouth affectionately. Tika slipped out of his embrace, playfully slapping him out of the way.   
  
He sat down, across from his brother, flashing him a grin. Caramon turned to his wife. "You'll be with us tomorrow, telling the story, won't you?"  
  
She paused, wiping her hands on her apron, "Hmm?"  
  
"Ari wants us to tell the story of the War of the Lance. It's for the mural."  
  
"Oh... hmm... yes, I suppose I will. I'll get one of the girls to help me out."  
  
Tika nodded, then motioned to a chair at the end of the table, between the twins, "Ariana, here's a place for you. Are you hungry?"  
  
Ariana shook her head, "No, could I have a cup of hot water, though?"  
  
"So, where's Delaware?" Tas asked, "Do they dress funny like you do there?"  
  
"Um... it depends upon who you are and what you do for work. Clothes supposedly show you individualism, but it's hard to believe that when all the clothing stores encourage you to 'be yourself, dress like these people'. What I'm wearing right now was popular... like thirty years ago. It's making a comeback supposedly. It was an attempt to blend in a little, but it didn't quite work. It's better than some of my medieval things that I had-they looked mostly like dress-up clothes. And Delaware..." she gave a slight wince before continuing on, "isonthecontinentofNorthAmericaontheplanetEarth." 


	2. Rain and Kisses

Disclaimer: mostly not mine. Give credit to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. Ari is mine tho...  
  
AN: Thank you to Pen D. Fox and Dalamar Nightson who've read and given me feedback. I never knew what an ego-boost reviews were. The first chapter was the first I've ever published on the web and I was nervous. I think you'll find this chapter a lot more informative of my character. Any suggestions for the presently-hibernating plot are welcome... I have an idea where it will go, but other ideas are always refreshing. Thanx and enjoy.  
  
Chapter 2: Rain and kisses  
  
A stunned silence swept over the group. It only took a moment, however, for Tas to regain his tongue.   
  
"Wow!! Really?! That must be why I didn't even know I had a half-brother. And plus that's why I've never seen or heard about you. What's it like over there? Do they have dragons or elves or kender? Why haven't you visited me before?"  
  
"I didn't even know this place existed up until a about two days ago. Apparently Grandpa wanted me to know about my roots, met you, and heard about what he," she pointed to Caramon, "wanted. So here I am."  
  
"How did you grandfather find his way between worlds?" Raistlin asked, his curiosity heightened.  
  
"The way he explained it to me was that he read about this world in a book. Several years earlier a couple of human mages visited this place and wrote about it, after several correspondences with Astinius. Grandpa got in contact with these two humans and they showed him how to travel to different worlds. He met a kender woman, fell in love, and had my daddy. Grandpa brought him back to Delaware with him because he though he may be a Pretender-it runs strong in our family. Um... Pretenders are people who can adapt and learn things very quickly and are very smart. Daddy turned out to be an Empath. Empaths read emotion from people by touching something that that person has recently handled, or the person themselves. Raines, a sort of 'mad scientist' and friend of the family, got his claws into Daddy and made him slightly insane. Somewhere along the line I was born to Daddy and someone else. Blood tests were done to determine that I'm 1/4 kender and 3/4 Elvin. They probably know who my mother is, but aren't telling. Not that it matters-any woman who can give up her child without looking back is no one I would want for a mother. I'm not bitter, that's just how I feel." She nodded in finality. "And lengthy answers like that will stop the flow of questions forever."  
  
"Or at least until we can come up with another question," Laurana smirked.  
  
"Point taken. Okay, now that you've all heard my entire autobiography you don't need to ask me anything else. Go... talk amongst yourselves," She shooed them away and started to fiddle with her hair. As they turned back to their meals, she turned to her mug of hot water, digging a teabag from out of her pocket and dunking it in the water before going back to her hair. She methodically began to take out the bobby pins holding her long silver braids up and released the hair. Then she began to work on loosening her braids.   
  
The mage to her left stared openly at her. In his accursed sight she did not wither and decay, but stayed as she looked to normal eyes. She was a bit taller than a normal kender, being somewhere around 4'5". From the looks of it, her hair went well past her knees, long bangs parted in the middle and falling into her almond eyes. The left eye was green, the right one purple, giving off an unbalanced feeling. Her eyebrows were thick and arched, tapering off at the ends. For a woman her jaw was a little too squared, but was still delicate as were her cheekbones. Raistlin guessed that she was young, even for an elf.   
  
"What exactly are you?" he asked, staring at her.   
  
Ariana looked up from what she was doing and glanced at the companions who were immersed in their group discussions. She looked back at Raistlin, "What do you mean? I already told you-"  
  
He cut her off, "You do not age. My eyes see all die-but you stay fresh and young."  
  
"Then the experiment is working! My family... well... Raines in particular, was doing an experiment to stop aging. All of us got our aging clocks stopped, so unless I start it again, I will stay this way forever."  
  
"How... useful..." Raistlin mused.  
  
Ari shrugged, "I don't know. Mayhap," she replied, undoing the final braid and raking through her long tresses with her fingers. "It's not like life can be all that exciting forever. The whole reason life is so great is because it's so short. What one does in a limited amount of time is far more impressive than what one does over a gradual period of time while they have chance after chance to make things right." She paused. "That was way too philosophical and idealistic." Her delicate hands dug around in another pocket, this time appearing with a hair tie to put her hair up with.   
  
Finally, she was able to sip her tea and observe the rest of the group. They were still chatting and eating; the noise they made blended in with the rest of the inn's bustle. Tas was digging through his pouches, sorting the treasures therein. The others talked of the news and what had been going on lately with them since they had last met. She glanced over with the corner of her eye to Raistlin. He sat with his spell book open in front of him, still looking at her. She quickly stuffed the bobby pins away and pulled out a sketchbook and pen. Ariana did several quick sketches of them, and then went into individual detail, capturing physical characteristics and mannerisms. This kept her occupied for some time until the voices nearest her died down. She looked up to find them all staring at her.   
  
"Que*?' she asked, supposing that they had asked her another question, turning a shade of pink.  
  
"What are you drawing?" Goldmoon repeated.   
  
Ari closed the book and handed it wordlessly across the table to the woman. She slunk back into her chair to wait for judgment, wishing against all hope that she had not taken it out. Attention on her was not a terribly good thing. Goldmoon flipped through the book, murmuring her approval. Riverwind and Laurana peered over her shoulder.   
  
Ari shifted in her chair and leaned towards Raistlin. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to his book.   
  
"A spell book," he told her, caressing the edge of it absentmindedly.  
  
"Magic is you passion?"  
  
"Yes. My life and my love."  
  
Tentatively she touched the corner of the book. "Sounds a bit lonely. So you live with anyone?"  
  
"My apprentice Dalamar."  
  
"Do you talk much? Is this normal?"  
  
"Do you always ask so many questions? Is that normal?" he retorted.  
  
"I'm just trying to get to know you. If you won't talk for yourself then a prodding is in order. Other than poking you with my finger, the other method is to ask, a practice I hope you prefer."  
  
He smiled tightly, "Perhaps I don't talk because there is nothing to say."  
  
She smiled generously back, "Pretty eyes," then took her book that Goldmoon proffered back. "Well?"  
  
"Wonderful. Very creative and you've used beautiful colors. I really liked the whole thing."  
  
"Thank you. I was going to show my sketchbook to you," she handed the book over to Caramon, "before we committed to a whole wall, in case you didn't like my style."  
  
"Well, let me see then." He flipped through, lingering on several pages. As he neared the end, she warned him, "Careful. Naked people back there."  
  
He paused, giving her a look.  
  
"Hey, it's not my problem-that's just what artists do, okay? Naked people are normal to see for us. They help with the anatomy of clothed people." She shrugged, "Just thought I'd warn you so it wouldn't be any more weird than it already is."   
  
After a little while he handed her sketchbook back to her. "Yeah, you're good. Just make sure we all have clothes on, okay?"  
  
She maintained a straight face, fighting down a giggle, "Not a problem."  
  
Riverwind and Goldmoon shifted and started to get up.  
  
"We should be going..." Goldmoon said, "We were up early."  
  
Ariana stood, going over to hug Goldmoon who readily responded, and Riverwind who merely stood there.  
  
"Statuesque," she murmured, then louder, "It was nice to meet both of you, see you tomorrow."  
  
Goldmoon nodded, "Sleep well," then they departed.  
  
Laurana and Tanis followed shortly with the same farewell hug. Tas, deciding that everyone had left because the fun was somewhere else, also left. He hugged his niece, snabbing a bobby pin from her pocket. Later, when he dug through his pouches, he would find it and discover its flinging abilities.   
  
Caramon rose to his feet, "I need to help Tika close. Raist, would you take Ariana back to the house?"  
  
His twin nodded reluctantly, pulling up his hood. Once they left, Ari snaked her arm through his, shivering a little at the dark that had descended. Several lights were lit and hung in the branches of the tree, illuminating everything with a warm glow. Just as fluently, he pulled his arm away, glaring at her. She smiled back. A biting remark was on the tip of his tongue, but what came out instead was his cough, the one that rattled his whole body and scared him more than he would ever admit. Ari moved to support him, but he shrank back. She frowned, smacking his arm and reaching for him again. This time he let her.  
  
"What was that?" she asked, as soon as he regained his breath.   
  
"A cough," he wheezed, leaning heavily on her and his staff.   
  
"I could see that. Will you be able to make it home? Are you sick?"  
  
"I will be fine. Just give me a moment." He rested on her arm, slowly drawing in breaths that scraped through his windpipe. She regarded him worriedly, visibly wincing with each breath that he took. "You do not need to watch me. I won't die before your eyes," he reassured her, the effort of speaking causing another onslaught of coughing.   
  
They did not speak after that, but concentrated on getting home. Once there, he collapsed into a chair.  
  
"Can I do anything for you?" Ariana asked.  
  
"Hot water," he croaked.  
  
She set about the task, easily acquainting herself with the kitchen. Within several minutes the water over the fire began to bubble. She found a cup and poured him the hot liquid. From a hidden pouch he pulled out a bag of tealeaves. The stuff smelled horrible but he threw in a pinch and drank it down anyway, grimacing.   
  
Art sat down at the table across from him, carefully watching him, as if it would make him feel better. Almost immediately she noted that his breathing seemed easier and there was no longer the impending threat of a coughing fit. Whatever that foul stuff was it worked.  
  
She took the cup and rinsed it, filling it with fresh water and dipping her own tea bag in it. Then, she offered it to him, saying, "Jasmine and Green Tea; improves your mood. Plus it'll get rid of the taste of whatever concoction that was."   
  
He took the tea, sipping at it. Then he pulled out his book and set it in front of him.   
  
Ari found several small candles about the kitchen and lit them with the cooking fire. She set them around his book; leaving for her room, she told him where she'd be if he needed her. Behind her back he scoffed.  
  
After Caramon and Tika had come home and went to bed, Raistlin was still up at the kitchen table studying. Rain started to pelt down on the treetops, softly at first, then with increasing speed. A door snicked open and a pattering of feet was heard. Ariana appeared in shorts and a tank top. She went to the window and cupping her hands, peered out. Satisfied that the rain was heavy enough she headed for the door. Gripping the knob, she looked over her shoulder, "Will you dance in the rain with me?" she whispered.   
  
Raistlin looked up, making a face, "And catch a cold? I get sick easily enough, thank you."  
  
"Suit yourself." And she was gone out in door in a flash. Immediately she was soaked to the bone. The rain poured down, drenching everything and making it slippery. Into a small clearing between the trees she stopped, pulling out glow sticks on strings from her pocket. Very softly humming a tune she began to swing them rhythmically, then faster until they swirled and arched around her. She began to dance along with them, letting the beat in her mind take her steps and go. Presently she was joined by several kender who cheerfully danced right along with her. Ariana passed the glow sticks off to them so that her hands were free to join into the movement. There were playful shrieks of joy and someone started to sing an off-tune song, which apparently no one else knew, but were happy to sing along with, filling in their own words. That turned into a screaming match and the neighbors in the trees began to yell. Quickly, the group broke up, running at the sight of several of the town's peacekeepers approaching.   
  
Ariana took off, dodging around a bit and hiding in a bush for a while to avoid being caught. Finally, she was able to sneak back into the house where Raistlin was still reading.   
  
He glanced up as she shut the door behind her. "What was going on out there? It sounded like a pack of drunken kender."  
  
She paused. "They weren't drunk... and how many is exactly a pack? I think there were enough for two. Where do you keep the towels? I could use several."  
  
Raistlin rose. "I'll get them. Tika would skin you alive if you dripped all over her nice clean floor." He was back in a minute with two dark towels in hand. He tossed them to her, saying, "I would also change if I were you- you're revealing things best left to the imagination," then he gathered up his spell books to leave.   
  
"Wait a sec," she murmured, moving towards him. When he turned, she reached up and snagged his collar, bringing him down to her level. Before he could protest she pressed her lips to his, lingering on his bottom lip for a moment.   
  
Raistlin pulled away sputtering, books falling from his grasp. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.  
  
*'what' in French 


	3. Explanations

Disclaimer: not mine, cept Ari  
  
AN: I know I said Dal was going to be in it.... He's coming up. You just gotta wait another chapter or so.   
  
Chapter 3: Explanations  
  
She bent to retrieve his spell books for him, but he batted her away.  
  
"A kiss... I think, "was her response.  
  
"You think?!" he snarled.  
  
"Well, I've never kissed anyone before... I- I think that was a kiss, " she faltered, turning red. "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted it." She turned and hurried for her room, more than a little embarrassed.   
  
He stood there, moments after she had left, shivering. Being very good at repressing emotions, he shoved the feeling down, saving it to analyze later. However, his curiosity was aroused, she had said that she thought he had wanted it. He knew that the entire evening he had been acting his usual self-a tactic guaranteed to repel not only women but also everyone. No magic had been cast upon her, nor was she really acting out of pity because no one kissed someone they pitied. He tried to figure out what gain anyone would get out of hid falling for the girl, but she did not even come from this world. So none of the mages on Krynn were responsible-that left the mages of the girl's planet. Of course! They had sent her as a spy to figure out his power then they would steal it and try to rule both worlds.   
  
Pleased with figuring it all out, he magicked his books back into his arms and shuffled off for his room. Just as he closed the door behind him and set down his books there was a scream from the room next to him.   
  
He hurried out the door in time to see Caramon burst into her room, a short sword in hand. This caused another scream. Raistlin sighed, brushing past his brother.   
  
"There clearly are no intruders here, Caramon. Go back to bed and let me deal with this, " he shoved his older brother out of the room, closing the door behind him. Raistlin spun around, "What was that all about?"  
  
"Wordlessly she pointed to a very large spider that was sitting on the wall by the bed. He moved to smash it, but Ariana leapt in front of him and caught his arm with her hands. "Please, " she murmured.  
  
He stood a moment, looking down at her. She hadn't yet changed out of her wet clothing and her nipples were poking at the drenched material. He quickly moved to a safer place: her lips. The top was thinner than her full lower lip and they were colored a light pink. Unwillingly the memory of her mouth on his sprang to the foreground.  
  
Ariana's eyes widened and she shivered. It looked like she knew exactly what he was thinking. She removed her grasp from his arm and backed away. "Open the window would you?" Then, she began to search for a cup and heavy sheet of water. Once she found those, she managed to capture the spider and flung it out the window, shutting it behind the spider.   
  
"What did you mean 'I thought you wanted it'?" Raistlin asked, leaning against a chair.   
  
Ariana moved past him and dug around in her bag, finally finding the light purple garment she was looking for. She turned away from him, peeling off her tank top.  
  
Raistlin hissed, turning his back on her.  
  
"Well, " she started, "I meant what I said. I truly thought that was what you wanted. I'm an Empath too with a bit of a Pretender in the mix. So when I touch things I get pictures and feelings. That's how I thought you wanted to kiss me." She walked so that she stood in front of him, "You obviously weren't going to make a move, so I did it for you. Something I'm terribly sorry about."  
  
Her nightgown was all silk and lace, falling about mid-thigh. She began to braid her hair in one long braid for the night.  
  
"Sorry about the quality or the incident in general?"  
  
"Why are you so obsessed with the kiss? If I didn't know any better I'd say you liked it, " she teased.  
  
He snatched her upper arm, drawing her closer, "Shut up, " he hissed, giving her a little shake, and then released her.   
  
She rubbed her arm, gazing at him solemnly, "Sorry. I was just playing."  
  
"Also, earlier, " Raistlin went on, as if nothing had happened, "you mentioned two mages who traveled here years ago and wrote books. Were they also from Earth? How did they manage to travel? Who taught them? Are they powerful wizards?"  
  
She shrugged, "I don't know. I haven't ever read the books."  
  
He stared at her in disbelief. His conclusions and schemes were shattered. However, none of this showed on his face, having practiced for a good deal of time hiding reactions that might give the opponent the upper hand. Quickly, he pulled at straws, trying to remember if she had any other connections with magic. He usually wasn't this fragmented. "Your grandfather is a mage, " he began.   
  
"Yes, but he mostly uses it for psychiatry-that's what he is: a psychiatrist. I suppose this world travel is just a hobby. He's most comfortable at home." She was now rummaging through the bag again, this time bringing out a button-up shirt, much too large. She put this on, "What else? You're so curious-this is as much as I've ever heard you talk."  
  
He shook his head; wearily sinking into the chair he'd been leaning on. She sat down in front of him on the floor.  
  
"Are you a good mage?" she asked.  
  
"The best in my field."  
  
"Wow. Is everyone black-robed?"  
  
"No. There are also white and red. Black robes are for evil, red for neutrality, and white for good."  
  
She laid her cheek on his knee.  
  
"Have you no sense of personal space?" he mused aloud, trying to move away. "Black robes are evil. You should be fearful and respectful."  
  
Ari moved so that her chin was there instead. "I live with evil people daily. Evil is now something that I can be comfortable with. Besides, one cannot be evil all the time. You're not evil when you sleep, nor when you study. You're not actively being evil. It does not bring respect, anyway. All it brings is fear and pain. Respect had to do with what a person does to earn it." She yawned, hiding it by bowing her head. "Aren't you tired?"  
  
He nodded, trying to shift away again. She rose, offering her hands in assistance. He attempted to sidestep her, but she pulled him into a hug. Instead of relaxing a little into the embrace, as she would have thought that he would have, he remained stiff. She tried not to pry into his feelings to give him privacy, but it was hard. Ari could feel a mixture of desire and hatred for that feeling, for the feeling of need, underlined with a basic confusion for both emotions. She pulled herself away before he had a chance to, "What do you want?"  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, drawing into himself.  
  
"You're so confused and so much in turmoil, I can't tell what you want anymore. I get the feeling that you want me, but hate me, but are ashamed of both feelings. There are motives-maybe not yours, but certainly there. Suspicion. Fear. Excitement. It comes all so fast I can barely read it, let alone understand it all. So I ask again, 'what do you want'?"  
  
"Isn't that a bit presumptuous of you to go poking through my head then expecting to 'fit in' somewhere? Why would I want anything from you?"  
  
"That's not presumptuous of me at all. I read what was there, nothing more, nothing less. If you're going to insult me then you can leave. Figure out what's in your heart and then we can have a decent conversation. Perhaps you can prove me wrong in my interpretations. Would that suit your bloody cynicism enough?" Ari wrapped her arms around herself, vaguely annoyed at how much his snippy comments hurt. Then she sighed; it would do her no good to be angry at him. It would only fuel animosity. "I would like to be a friend to you. Not out of pity, but because I think you're an interesting person. I don't pity you, you know."  
  
Raistlin nodded, unable to find something to say in return. He had come to find out who had sent her and why, only to learn that she knew nothing about it. She had been able to read him like a text, so the customary masks were useless. And she wanted to be friends. The blunt concept of it all made his head ache.   
  
"Have you heard anything that I've just said?" she asked.  
  
"Yes.   
  
"And your reaction to that would be...?" she prompted.  
  
"Still processing. You're more blunt than even I can be."  
  
"Could you 'process' somewhere else? I'm going to bed." Ari kissed his arm in passing, crawling into her bed. "You're welcome to join me if you don't snore."  
  
Raistlin shook his head, blowing out her lights as he exited the room for the night. In his own room he undressed for the night and lay in bed, unable to sleep. Much had gone on. He replayed her actions are words over and over again, trying to pick out a kernel of meaning or a slip of the tongue that would betray her true intent. Taking what she said at face value was just as hard. He desperately wanted to be friends with her, but that was such a silly idea. Mentally he kicked himself around the room. The magic that ruled his life would not play second fiddle to a woman and he doubted Ariana would enjoy being below his magic. Yet, at the same time he didn't want to give either up. Well, that was a fairly loose sentiment because she only wanted to be friends and if she were merely a friend, the competition would be fairly non-existent. But he didn't particularly want her to be just a friend and he had a feeling that she shared the sentiment. She had kissed him, after all. Friends don't go around kissing one another now do they?   
  
Raistlin could feel himself falling for her. The funny thing was, he didn't want to stop it. She had not shied away from his appearance or personality. In fact, she thought he had pretty eyes and found him interesting. That had to count for something. A nice bonus was that he found her to be beautiful. Being immortal made her safe from his decaying gaze. Of course, he reasoned, she perhaps wasn't even interested. That would be logical. He wasn't much to look at with a skinny frame, white hair, and golden skin. He could be interpreting things as more than they seemed; it wouldn't be the first time. He had a flare for the melodramatic.   
  
As he drifted off to sleep, he could still fell her lips upon his.   
  
Everyone was up and ready for the day by the time Ariana stumbles into the kitchen. She was dressed in short denim shorts and several layered tank tops. On each wrist were several beaded bracelets and multiple necklaces around her neck. Her hair was up in two buns in the back, messily tied with several strands of ribbon. What hair was free was kinked from last night's braiding.   
  
She hugged Caramon and Tika, then sat next to Raistlin at the table and put her head on the tabletop, yawning. "Sorry about waking you all, " she said, "It was a spider. Raistlin helped me catch it and throw it out the window. It just startled me, was all. I don't mind spiders when they aren't crawling by my head."  
  
Tika nodded, "Would you like anything to eat? We're having pancakes and eggs and bacon."  
  
"Eggs and coffee sound good. If you have any coffee."  
  
The red haired woman pointed to a pot of coffee. "Fresh. What do you take in it?"  
  
"Milk and sugar, please." Ariana reached under the table and found Raistlin's knee, giving it a squeeze in greeting, simultaneously assessing his state of being. He was still tumultuous, but a little calmer about his feelings. It was like he had a plan and was still trying to work out all the small details.   
  
She turned her head so that it was facing him and opened her eyes. He was regarding her, a small smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. She smiled at him, trying to encourage him.  
  
"You look ridiculous, " he told her, a smile maliciously on his lips.   
  
Instead of taking it to heart, she grinned even bigger, "Thank you."  
  
The smile faded, "That wasn't a compliment."   
  
"I know, but I'll take it as one anyway.   
  
Tika set the plate and cup in front of Ariana, "We're just finishing up here, then heading over to the Inn. Come over as soon as you're ready." Then she and Caramon left.   
  
Ariana quickly ate her breakfast and got up to clean her dishes in the bucket of soapy water. "Are you done eating?" she asked, turning to face Raistlin, hands still soapy.   
  
He pushed his plate away, barely touched, "Yes. Hours ago."  
  
"No wonder you're so skinny. You don't eat anything." Ari wiped her hands on a nearby towel sat down by him, pushing the plate towards him. "Try eating more."   
  
Raistlin picked it up, taking it to a bin into which he dumped the contents of his plate. "I did." He proceeded to wash his plate, "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"You're such a brat, " she told him incredulously, "dumping your breakfast into the rubbish bin." She stomped out of the kitchen and returned a minute later with a bag slung over her shoulder. "Come on, let's go." Ari slipped her hand into his only to have him try vainly to free it. "Hey, relax, " she told him, "I'm just holding you hand. In case you haven't noticed I like physical contact. Thrive on it, if you will. Are you embarrassed? Is it un-mage-like to hold my hand?"  
  
"It implies feelings of endearment, which are not mutual, " he snarled.  
  
"I think it is mutual. Last night's dreaming reveals that don't you think? Your problem is that you're too terrified to initiate anything. You may be a powerful mage but you can't gather up enough courage to feel something and voice it to another human being."  
  
The look in his eyes could have reduced her to ashes. "You aren't human."  
  
"You are avoiding my confrontation."  
  
They glared at each other for several moments. "We should get going now, " he told her evenly, pushing aside even anger. "This is a conversation for much later and only because you are driving me insane." With that, he grabbed her by the arm and marched her to the Inn so fast she did not have to breath to argue. 


	4. Storytime!

Disclaimer: same old, same old... DL not mine... Ari mine.  
  
Ch4: Storytime  
  
Everyone had just gotten there by the time Raistlin and Ariana showed up. They said their hellos and then got right into the story. Tanis started first, setting the scene. The group took turns narrating when the part pertained more to them or when a detail was needed. Tas wanted to tell most of it, but he was only given the chance to speak once or twice due to his rambling nature. Riverwind spoke little and Raistlin even less.  
  
Throughout, Ariana sketched the group, attempting to piece together flint and Sturm as their personalities arose. She paused occasionally to ask a question or clarify and issue.   
  
Tika was around most of the time, leaving only when drinks needed refilling.  
  
Raistlin watched Ari most of the time, noting the mood of the group echoed into her face. When they got the deaths of their comrades, tears ran down her face as much as those around her, grieving for the heroes she never knew. It was like she was feeling everything they were. As he gazed at her, he tried to find something wrong that would lead him to hate her. Or at least give him some clue as to her motives. He searched for some argument against her, found several, but couldn't put the heart into them.   
  
The afternoon wore on into night and eventually the Inn was closed. The group huddled around the fire, finishing the last of their tale. Once it was over silence reigned, each companion thinking over their feelings and soaking in what they had learned and, for the past hours, had relived. Tas was asleep, head on the table, snoring gently.  
  
Ari closed her sketchbook and put down her pen, flexing her cramped hand. "That was some adventure," she murmured, "I wish I could paint it all. But that would be impossible unless I made a book, and that isn't what you want. Here," she passed the sketchbook around, "Did I manage to capture Flint and Sturm?" The companions each took their turns looking at the pictures, agreeing that the likeness was very good.   
  
"Yea," Ari covered a yawn, "Where does one take a bath in this place?"  
  
"We have a public bath. It's free. Someone can show you where to go," Tika offered.   
  
"Just point me in the right direction."  
  
"It's to the left of here, past about three trees and on the ground. There should be a sign on it. I think it's open for another half hour or so."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She emerged half and hour later, in a tank top and cotton pants, hair in a braided rope down her back, bag slung over her shoulder casually. The night was a little cooler than the last had been and the stars and moons were out, casting a reddish silver glow on everything. The hour was late enough that most of the windows in the surrounding tree houses were out, as were the lamps that lit the walkways. Luckily the moons were nearly full, enough so that she could see fairly well.   
  
Raistlin slid out of the shadows, hood drawn up in spite of the warmth. Ari jumped a little, startled at his noiseless appearance, and then went towards him.   
  
"What took so long?" he snapped, irritably.   
  
"I was enjoying my bath. I didn't know we were meeting afterwards or anything. Did you tell me and I just forgot?" she asked, standing no further than a few inches from him. "Could you take you hood off? I like to see people when I talk to them."  
  
He obliged, an unreadable mask upon his face. As she reached up to touch his cheek, he flinched away. "What do you mean by saying that last night's dreaming proved that? How do you know what I dreamt?"  
  
"When I touched your knee this morning I envisioned what you feelings were concerning a dream you had last night. Some pictures came too. From the emotions I pick off you, you should be acting very differently. Why won't you just open up to me?"  
  
"You wouldn't like the view," he snarled.  
  
"Can you tell me your story? From what everyone said, I could get a sense of who they are, but I cannot for the life of me understand you."  
  
"And you shan't. You have no right to know anything. I am a private person." He turned to go home. She followed at his heels.  
  
"No you aren't. You're a coward!" In disgust she kept walking to the house even after he had stopped in shock. She marched up the stairs and into the house. Tika was still up, and on a whim, cut Ari's hair short when she asked her to.   
  
Then, Ari went into her room to read and pout.   
  
Raistlin was still standing there, minutes after the confrontation. He was trembling in anger and shame all at once. 'How dare she read me like that and presume I wanted her,' he steamed internally. He did, however, want her, whether or not he realized it. 'How could she even suppose it's possible? If I tell her anything then she will not only shrink from the darkness of my soul, but she would have leverage over me. I have to remain cool, 'calm, collected , and aloof. Like I was far too above her to care that she was interested. How could I pour myself out with the fear that she would reject me?' He shook his head. 'I don't even know if I want her to accept me. Why should I create a dependency or a weakness?' Raistlin shivered, pulling his robes tighter. He hadn't nearly enough answers, he thought, as he made his way home, heading for the room next to his and knocking.   
  
"Come in," Ari called out.  
  
As he entered, she looked up from her book on her bed. "Go away," she told him, focusing on the book once more.  
  
"May I talk with you?"  
  
"Evidently not; I'm reading. Besides you haven't had any time to think things through."  
  
"You cut your hair," he noted, shoving away the mental voice who commented on how boyishly cute it made her look.  
  
"Yes. Tika did it for me. It's way too hot here for long hair. It should grow back in due time." Ari did not look up at any point during the conversation. She had read the same line about five times by now and was growing irritated. "Would you please go now? I will maybe talk to you sometime tomorrow. Preferably when I am not attempting to read."  
  
Raistlin came in further, closing the door behind him. He got a slight thrill from aggravating her the way she annoyed him-by not going away. "Why do you want to become friends?" he asked, folding his hands so that he could not fidget.   
  
Ari sighed dramatically, slamming the bookmark into the novel, "Great book," she stated with mock enthusiasm, "Can't put it down." Then, she sat up, smoothing out the bed sheets she had been laying on top of, patting the space besides her invitingly.   
  
He came over and sat down, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robes, hugging his arms.   
  
"Why do you need to always know the motives that drive a person? Would it possibly kill you to take things as they are-just accept the situation and be content? That is the reason you don't have friends. You analyze them to death when you should just be there for them. It is possible that someone would like to be your friend. Like me, for example." She was becoming frustrated with him. He seemed to have a tendency to bring the worst out in a person, solely because he was so aggressive and challenging.   
  
"I didn't come to be criticized. I came for answers," he replied. A part of him was telling him to just shut up and listen before he made her angrier. In those last few minutes he hadn't thought it in her nature for her to be so irritated.   
  
She sighed. Obviously she wasn't getting it through to him that if he were a little more pleasant it wouldn't kill him. "I don't have any ulterior motives, okay? I am not the kind of person who hides what they feel; I like to get all the cards laid out on the table." This time there was a pleading note to her voice. She was done being angry. It drained her.   
  
Raistlin stared at her for a few minutes, golden eyes trying to pierce into her heart and discover what was really there. She looked away, his gaze being far too burning to keep eye contact with.   
  
"You have anything to say?" she asked, nervously. She had said a lot and wasn't sure how he was taking it. She twisted the hem of her shirt in between her fingers.  
  
He shook his head, still gazing levelly.   
  
"Can I kiss you?"  
  
An eyebrow rose, "You didn't ask the first time. Why would you need permission now?" His heartbeat quickened at the thought of the kiss.  
  
"Because last time I disturbed you. I want to make sure it's all right." She leaned closer to him, carefully watching his expression.   
  
"We're friends, right?" he asked. At her assent, he went on, "Friends don't kiss."  
  
"Oh," was all she could manage, feeling a blush creep up her neck and into her face, scalding her pointed ears. "Sorry."  
  
A malicious smile tinted his lips. "Go to bed-it's almost morning," he suggested, getting up and leaving.  
  
"I think I love you," she told him, after the door was closed and she had picked up her book again. Ari had about as much luck as she had had when Raistlin had come in. Her thoughts scrambled frantically through her mind, each one claiming precedence over the last. Desperately she wanted to be friends-and then some. His secretive ways intrigued her and his unfriendly attitude made her want to know him and understand what made him like that. She was also attracted to him. Everything about him she found visually appealing and the strength of his personality drew her. 'Perhaps he wants to be more than just friends,' she mused, filing through the mental images she had picked up. The interest was definitely there, as was the potential. An ache had gone through her when they had kissed. She wanted more than that one kiss. As she blew out the candles for the night she began to scheme of ways to steal a kiss or two more, maybe a walk holding hands. Ari was willing to be doing anything just as long as she could be around the man who caused such a rush of emotions. She slept fitfully, excited for the next day.   
  
Ariana sat at the kitchen table flipping through her sketchbook. She had enough drawings to make an interesting mural and many ideas-the trick was combining images. Over her ears were her earphones, blaring Weezer's blue album. She bounced to the music, mouthing the words right along with the band. Caramon and Tika were managing the Inn; they left behind a pot full of hot coffee and a plate of cooling raisin scones.   
  
As she stared at the scones for possible inspiration, an idea struck. Ari gathered up her cd player, sketchbook, plate of scones, coffee pot and two mugs, heading for Raistlin's room. She gave to door a nudge with her foot and it swung open.   
  
Raistlin didn't bother to look up from his books so she entered, sliding the plate and the pot next to him on the desk, the cups following with a clink. That caught his attention and he glared over at her, the sun catching the color of his skin and making it glow. "What are you doing?" he asked. In the morning sunlight he knew with clarity what it was that made him irritated so much with her: she was so damn persistent! The kender blood in her disturbed him and it was her kender-like mannerisms of talking too much and being so cheerful that made him choke on any nice words that he might say to her.   
  
"I got lonely in the kitchen and thought I'd draw in here with you. I brought coffee and scones. Peace offerings." She poured the coffee in to the cups, leaving one for him and nudging the scones toward him suggestively. With her cup of coffee, she plunked down on the floor by his desk, turning her music on lowly this time.   
  
He glanced down at her, stopping himself from reaching down and stroking her hair. She looked so pretty today in black pants that went mid-calf and had a ribbed black tank top. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, bangs clipped back, and strands of hair escaping at the nape of her neck. Around her throat was a black cat's collar, red heart and bell dangling down. At that point she didn't have much on the page, so she sat, absently fiddling with the wire attached to her earphones.   
  
Ari leaned back against the desk, looking up at him. Her eyes bounced shyly away from his. She took the earphones off and looked back to him, "Morning," she mumbled, keeping her eyes on his for only a few seconds. He reached down and took her chin with a delicate hand.   
  
"Make eye contact, please."  
  
She did so, holding his gaze for a quite a while. "You and your masks. You can't hide a thing behind them when you touch me, " she whispered.   
  
He pulled away back his hand as if burnt, staring at it. Ari put aside her sketchbook and rose to her knees. She folded him into an embrace, nuzzling his jaw until he turned toward her and she kissed him.   
  
No sooner had the kiss been initiated when the door swung open. Caramon lumbered in, "Hey, Raist, have you seen Ariana?" He stopped, mumbled an apology and backed out of the room.   
  
Ariana shrank away guiltily, mouthing 'sorry' to the furious mage. She picked up her things and ran out of the room to find Caramon. The kitchen was bathed in green sunlight, coming in from the trees where Caramon was puttering around. He glanced ocer at her, blushing slightly.   
  
"Well, I have several ideas sketched out," Ari began. "I was trying to think of another, but you found me before I was done. So... here's what I have." She opened the book to where she had started. "My favorite's the inn scene. It could look like an extension of your inn or one that you visited on your adventures."  
  
The big man nodded, thumbing through some of the pages. "I think the inn one is the best. Now, while I've got you, I need to talk about when this could be done and payment for this. The summer is my busiest season what with all of the tourists. It's not busy after midnight until about early in the afternoon. People don't come in until later."  
  
"Sounds good. I like to stay up late. If you could rope off a few feet around where you want the mural to be it would really help. I wouldn't want customers getting wet paint all over themselves. As for payment, as long as you feed me, let me stay here and buy my supplies, I don't want anything. This is a vacation away from my work for me, and a good opportunity to practice my painting."   
  
"That's a deal, then." He was about to say something, but stopped, and then started again. "Are you and Raist... um...?"  
  
Ariana snapped her book closed in finality. "I doubt it. He isn't sure what he wants right now; at least as far as I can tell from the emotions that I can read off of him. I'm an empath and so I can feel these things. I just don't know what to do about him. I really like him."  
  
"Yeah? Tika seems to think that he likes you. I think so too. You would be good for him," he added, surprisingly perceptive. 


	5. Lonely

Disclaimer: the usual. DL blah blah blah not mine blah Weis and Hickman blah blah Ari's mine. Blah.  
  
AN: Dal's in this one! Yea for all you Dalamar fans! I know that Raistlin probably does eat meat, but I think it suits his constitution better to not. Oh. And just so you all know, I probably won't be updating this for some time after this. Ma famille (my family) is coming down for the week, so I'll be spending all my free time with them. Not that I think I'll have any free time. The All Holy Art Teachers at LCAD have decreed that it is 'work week' and so I've got a test Monday, a KILLER test Friday, a scratchboard piece to finish by next Tuesday, animation 10 second final to work on, a painting to start so that I can pass the class, and the Lysistrata to read by Wed. YESH... Sorry for the rambling. I doubt you cared, but there my life is in one sentence. Enjoy my pretties...   
  
Chapter 5: Lonely  
  
Ariana's job at the Centre where she worked was a diplomat. She acted as the middleman between companies and the unfriendly Centre. As such, she was gifted in knowing when to say something to nudge the companies in one direction or another. However, in her personal life, it wasn't that easy. Being close to family and friends put her in too close to the situation and tended to mar her calculations. She wished her cousin, Alysa, were there, or her grandpa-just someone who could step back and give her advice. Ari would have liked to go into Raistlin's room again and talk it out, but verbal confrontation was not an easy thing with him. He balked at anything related to being civil, it seemed.   
  
Drawing in a deep breath as if it might be her last, she ignored the little voice warning against talking to Raistlin. As she approached the door, however, she began to lose her nerve. It seemed like the 'fight or flight' instinct was trying to kick in. Now in front of the door, it seemed like a huge mistake. Further anxiety was brought as the door swung open, bringing a pissed mage chest to face with the small woman. His eyes were vehement.   
  
Ari stepped back a pace; she hadn't said word and already she felt defeated. Some small section of her brain that was artistic noticed how beautiful he looked when he was angry and filed it away for later.   
  
"I don't want you near me," he hissed, brushing past her.  
  
"Raistlin, I didn't mean for Caramon to see us even more than I meant to fall in love with you. So you can't just walk away from me."  
  
"I can do whatever I please," he retorted over his shoulder.   
  
She ran after him, tugging on his robe, "Please wait. Could we talk about this instead of you running away or changing the subject?" He stopped and turned towards her. She shrunk back a little. "I don't understand how having your brother walk in while we were kissing can compromise any sort of relationship between us. I know that I said I wanted to be friends, but I think I want more. You obviously want me, but you aren't acting like it. What harm are you afraid of?"  
  
"I don't have time for what a relationship requires. My magic comes first in my life."  
  
"Let's try. You'll never know unless you do. Consider it an experiment and if it fails it wasn't because we didn't try. You'll be just be back to where you started, alone and lonely." Ari bit her lower lip, ready to hear and refute what he said.   
  
"I'm not lonely."  
  
"Yes you are. I can tell. No one talks to you ever and they all try to sidestep you-even your precious companions. I know this hurts. That's why you put on all of your thick masks and pretend not to be human because that would make you have emotions and emotions leave you wide open to be hurt. You've got such a thirst for life and you're not even living!" She sucked in her breath, shocked at what she had said.   
  
He seemed to be furious again at her. Of course these revelations struck deep, they were true. What he felt was struggling up for air in a sea of apathy. His thoughts darted around, trying to make sense of what he could use this woman for. She knew so much about what made him tick she was dangerous and could be used against him by his enemies. A slow smile spread across his face-he could find a use for her after all. Now, he just needed to play his cards right. "We'll see, all right? Just take it one day at a time." Placating her was the first step.   
  
She beamed at him, clearly excited, and threw her arms around him.  
  
He sighed; he was going to have to get used to all this hugging and physical contact because it didn't look like it was going away. Damn her clingy-ness. So, he obligingly wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head upon hers briefly. "Will you please not read me? It's an invasion of privacy."  
  
"I'll try, but I usually can't control it. I just won't try to interpret it. It's the best I can do." She hung onto him tightly.   
  
Raistlin pulled away gently. He made an excuse about going to study elsewhere and left. At his exit both parties sighed, one with relief and one with regret.   
  
The thin mage went for the Inn. Not many people would be there in the heat, having better things to do than sitting around drinking. He secluded himself in a shady corner, sun streaming in enough to light his pages. He drew his hood up, a warning to any potential waitress that he did not wish to be disturbed.   
  
A knock at the door woke her up. She made a general admittance noise, sitting up and taking out her ponytail to redo. Raistlin entered, setting down the plate he held onto the table. "We had dinner and Tika thought you might like something," he murmured, glancing up at her for the first time since he had entered. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning," he informed her. "There are things that I need to attend to before I can remain any longer."  
  
She also stood, "May I come, please? I need to talk to you still about yourself." She bit her lip, "I can't really start painting until I do." She began poking her food with a fork, nudging the meat over, away from her precious greens.  
  
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He had been hoping to spend some time alone to mend his broken masks before anyone had a chance to peer through the cracks. However, he couldn't very well ruin his twin's mural. For one thing, he'd never hear the end of it. So, for sanity's sake, he agreed. "You'll want to wear warm clothing. My tower is some distance away and it tends to not be so hot there. We'll be traveling by magic, so it will only take a couple of seconds. What in the Abyss are you doing?"  
  
"Nothing. Eating. Not the meat. I meant to tell Tika, but I never got around to telling her that I was a vegetarian."  
  
He nodded, "Meat makes me sick to my stomach. As does most foods." Then Raistlin made to leave, turning halfway once his hand was on the knob. "I'm leaving early in the morning. Be ready to go and be gone for three or four days."  
  
Ari looked from her small sketchbook to the enormous wall in front of her. Things were going to be interesting. Taking a deep breath, she approached the wall with a stick of vine charcoal and started in. General lines went down first followed by more solid details that outlined shoulders and feet, noses and hands. She worked for an hour before looking back to her sketch. It was fairly accurate. She would go back later to edit specifics. Around her, the Inn was starting to come to life. Sleepy barmaids stumbled in. Caramon and Tika soon followed. They paused appreciatively in front of the wall she was working at.   
  
"Morn'," Ari greeted. "In order to complete this mural I'm going to have to talk to Raistlin and since he's going to his tower this morning I, would like to go with. Would that be a problem?"  
  
"Not at all," responded Caramon, "Whatever it takes."  
  
"Ready?" Raistlin asked.  
  
She nodded, pulling on a jacket and stepping closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her much closer. "Hang on," he whispered into her ear. "You may feel disoriented, but I will have you close to me." With that, he chanted lowly. The hallway dissolved and it felt like she was being squeezed inside out. She gasped and the air was sucked out of her lungs. An eternity later, they arrived.   
  
They clung to each other a moment after, Raistlin leaning upon his staff and Ari clutching him, too dizzy to think. He drew away, steadying the small woman, then starting for the gate of the tower. Ari ran to follow, slipping her hand into his. This time, he didn't complain.   
  
Ariana stayed extremely close, shivering slightly, not just at the cold, but also at her surroundings. The forest was dark and gloomy with a fog beginning to roll out of the underbrush. At the corners of her eyes she could swear that she saw people waling around and there definitely were cold things touching her ankles.   
  
At the entrance to the tower, they halted as a shadow took form and stepped into the dim light. Ari flinched backwards, the face somehow familiar. She wasn't even sure whom it was she faintly recalled.   
  
The figure in front of her also started, staring at her for a moment with cold gray eyes before snapping his attention to Raistlin. The tall, slender man bowed, "Shalifi, welcome back."  
  
Raistlin nodded curtly, "Dalamar, this is Ariana. She will be staying for as long as I do, as my guest. Is the spare room ready like I asked?"  
  
Dalamar, the dark elf, shook his head. "No. Unfortunately the disturbance in the forest that I alerted you to took all of my time. Something is coming that the forest cannot stop-it's as if it's afraid of whatever's out there. I cannot see what it is. I sent the Guardian out to stop it, but it came back immediately and disappeared."  
  
Raistlin turned to Ari, "Go with Dalamar. He will show you to my study where you are to await me. Make yourself comfortable. The couch is yours until a proper room is made up." He nodded to Dalamar, entering the tower and taking the stairs down.   
  
Ari and the elf mage eyed each other in an uncomfortable silence.   
  
"You look like someone I should know. Ever been to Earth?"  
  
"No," he returned, "You look like my sister. Do you know her? I don't know where she lives, right now. Her name's Bridgett."  
  
Ari gave a gasp. "HER?! You've got to be kidding me! I do not look like her! There is no bloody way! I'm not related to her either. Angelo Green is my daddy and... there is no way the two of them could have ever gotten together-he's half-kender."  
  
Dalamar paled. "Right. I shall have to talk to my sister again. Come this way." He led her up stairs opposite to the ones Raistlin had gone down earlier. They wound around, and around the tower, staying close to the wall, the other side being open to the air. Falling down these stairs would kill a person-they went all the way down without a break. Only several more flights passed before coming to a landing that looked like all the others. Dalamar stopped and turned. "This is it. There's fruit in a bowl on a table if you get hungry. Don't pry; the Shalifi hates that. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?   
  
"Where's the bathroom and is there a place where I can clean up?"  
  
"On the second landing down is a door. That will lead you to a room where the middle of the floor is sunken down several feet. Pull on the cord on the right and hot water will come out of the spout. Pull again for it to stop. Soap and towels are in a cupboard inside." He nodded his head to her and continued up the stairs.   
  
Ari faced the door, opening it cautiously. She didn't know what she was expecting to see and chided herself for being silly. A fire was burning in the hearth, heating and lighting the room sufficiently. Shelves lined the walls, full of huge tomes and interesting looking bones. Creatures and plants in clear liquid were suspended in jars that adorned some of the spaces, as did complicated metal objects. Rocks and crystals were arranged, some with little fossils of leaves and bugs impressed upon them. Interesting feathers and odd-shaped skulls were tucked onto one shelf. Across the way was an impressive looking desk in front of a large curtained window. Next to that, the said couch that she could spend the night on. As she neared the end of one bookshelf, she couldn't help put notice a door shadowed in the wall. Ari tentatively touched the doorknob. In the back of her mind she recalled Dalamar's warning not to snoop. But she wasn't poking around, she decided. All she was going was acquainting herself with where she would be staying.   
  
The doorknob twisted and revealed a set of steps, lit from another fire going on down below. Ari descended, one hand on the wall, other hand on the banister. The stairs ended facing a dresser with a smashed mirror. Apparently it had been cleaned up quickly for several large shards remained in the frame, curving up wickedly, reflecting the fire on the opposite wall. Next to the dresser was a washbasin, bringing her to the foot of a canopy bed. Black velvet encased a large bed with silken black covers. It was made so perfectly that not a wrinkle marred the sheets. She bent close to the pillow, taking in the fragrance of rose petals. His scent.   
  
Then, deciding that she had been down here too long, she hurried back up the stairs, opening then closing the door soundlessly. Ari turned to move away from the door and caught Raistlin glaring at her from where he stood by his desk. He snapped the book he had been flipping through shut and strode over to where she stood.   
  
"What were you doing in there?" he demanded, grapping her shoulder to keep her in place. 


	6. Bring me to Life

Disclaimer: you know the drill. Dragonlance ppl not mine. Gerald Tarrant is the character of C.S. Friedman, and the title is inspired by Evanesence. Goodness... I went on a stealing spree for this one!  
  
AN: FAMILY IS GONE! My life is back and I am scrambling to pick up all the pieces and projects that are left waiting to be done. I ended up not studying as much as I wanted to for that Friday test, and so far it looks like I passed with flying colors... hmm... perhaps this will start a miraculous trend of not studying and passing tests... nah. I'd lose what's left of my mind.   
  
WARNING: There is a brief slash scene, but if you continue reading the whole chapter you will find that there is a reason behind it, not just a perverted girl, pulling puppet strings. It's not that graphic, but if it bothers you, skip over it!   
  
Ch 6: Bring me to Life  
  
Ariana winced at the fingers biting into her thin arm. "J-just looking around. I wasn't there for more than a couple of minutes and I left when I saw that it was your room," she stammered, lowering her eyes, tears rising up. "Did you know you mirror's broken?"  
  
"How did you know it was my bedroom? Look at me when you speak."  
  
She drug her eyes up as far as his displeased mouth, wondering if he would forget all that had happened if she kissed him again. Probably not. "It smelled of roses, like you do. What happened to your mirror? Was there a fight?"  
  
"I smashed it years ago, " he let go of her arm, turning away.   
  
"Why?"  
  
"Do you think I like looking like this?!" he snarled, spinning around, jabbing a finger into his chest. He began to cough uncontrollably for a moment.   
  
She jumped at his outburst, hitting the back of her head on the door. Never had she expected this uncharacteristic turn of events; she hadn't even considered that he felt bad about how he looked. He had seemed above caring what other people thought about him. He was, though, human, and subject to those sorts of feeling, she supposed. A wave of guilt washed over her, for assuming that his appearance was not a touchy subject. In an attempt to shift his mind from what she had brought up, she asked, "Did you find out what was out there? Is Dalamar helping you or is he cleaning up a room for me? He doesn't need to, you know. I could just stay on the couch or clean the room myself, if you wanted."  
  
He shook his head, grimly, rasping out, "I'm trying to find a particular spell to aid me; your prattle does not help."   
  
"Sorry. Have you got a bit of chalk?"   
  
He sighed, "Second drawer on the left."  
  
Ari bounded over, finding what she wanted where she wanted where it should be. Then, in passing, pressed her lips to Raistlin's shoulder in a kiss, as she hurried out. On the landing, by the door, she drew a grumpy cloaked stickperson holding a staff. Two doors down she drew a stickperson in a bubble bath. Now she would be able to remember where everything was in this place where everything seemed to look the same. She pocketed the chalk and continued down until she had reached ground level. The door she had entered half an hour ago was on her right, marked with a torch on either side, as were every other door in the tower spiraling upward. She turned the handle and pushed it open, stepping out into the fresh air. Ari walked to the surrounding garden and finding an open space in the middle, started doing a few dancing warm-ups to clear her mind. Her mind was busy and she felt tense. Of course that was the way she generally felt around Raistlin, other than slightly giddy and excited. The graceful movement was very calming; a physical exercise that removed the built-up negative energy and replaced it with something much purer. She could ignore the creepiness of the tower now that she had a cleansed feeling.   
  
Hairs on the back of her neck started to stand up. She opened her eyes to find a young man in front of her. Tall, immaculately dressed with silver hair and piercingly cold silvery blue eyes. A small smirk was on his lips. Ari immediately disliked him. It was the same gut-reaction she had for her oily Uncle Lyle.   
  
He approached her.   
  
Raistlin closed the book as a panicked feeling arose in his chest. He glanced out the window, locating the only two substantial figures in the garden. At once he teleported himself several paces away from where the man had the swooning woman at his feet.   
  
"How dare you come in here to harm what I have protected. Askth vertosios" Raistlin seethed, blasting the stranger back into the rosebushes with a magical flick of his wrist.   
  
The other man glared from his ripped sleeves to the mage in front of him. He raised himself up with dignity before sending creeping cold tendrils to snake up Raistlin's legs.   
  
With a glance, the golden skinned mage seared them away, and then turned to hurl small fireballs at the stranger, "Ast kiranann kair soth-arn suh kali jalaran"   
  
A protective wall of ice rose up immediately, making the fire hiss out disappointedly.   
  
"I had no idea that she was protected," the stranger responded from behind his barricade. "My name is Gerald Tarrant. I came to talk to you about your magic."  
  
"What about it?" Raistlin snapped, irritably raising Ariana up with a spell and causing her to float into his arms. He turned and began to walk back inside, heart beating wildly... if he had lost her... She was pale and drawn, icy to the touch.   
  
Tarrant walked alongside of him, "What I think you would call magic in my world is dying. I don't know that I could exist without it. So, I came in search of a place where my fae still exists."  
  
"Why would I care about your magic dying?"  
  
"Because your world might be next."  
  
Tarrant watched the frail mage settle the young woman on the couch, unfurling blankets and covering her with them. Only once he had smoothed the hair from her face did he turn to face Tarrant. "That is impossible," Raistlin stated, gathering up the strewn spell books. He began to put them back on their appropriate shelves. He no longer needed them, as what presence had been coming was standing with him in the very room.   
  
"No, it's not. One man made a sacrifice and the world's fae started to fade," Tarrant argued.   
  
"Our gods keep the magic alive, not the planet-"  
  
"What if your gods leave?"  
  
A hint of annoyance passed across Raistlin's face. "They're gods. Gods don't get up and leave when they feel like it. I don't even think they could leave-they need us as much as we need them."  
  
Tarrant sighed, "How do you know? I sacrificed so much for the advancement of the fae and one old man's crusade ends over nine-hundred years of this natural force."  
  
The mage went back over to the girl, pressing a hand against her forehead. She was still very cold. "What did you do to her?" he asked, coughing slightly.   
  
"I started to feed off of her."  
  
Raistlin touched her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, widened, then she grew limp and stopped breathing. He leapt up and grabbed the front of Tarrant's tunic. "You killed her!" he snarled, gesturing violently towards the couch.   
  
"I didn't know you cared about her," Tarrant replied coldly, shrugging off his grip.   
  
With an exasperated sigh, Raistlin turned toward her, hand extended, murmuring a spell that Tarrant couldn't quite catch. Raist drew closer until his hand touched her forehead. Ari's eyes opened as she bolted upright. He immediately sat down and gathered her up into his arms, smoothing her hair down, calming her. He glanced over at Tarrant. "Leave us now."  
  
Ari buried her face into his chest, clutching at his robes; she was shaky and frightened. "Wha... am- am I still dead?!"  
  
"No, no, shhhh. You're very much alive. I brought you back; you weren't too far-gone for that. You're safe now. I won't ever let that happen again. It's all right." He started to pull away, but she gripped him tighter.   
  
"Don't leave me yet," she whimpered.   
  
"Let me take care of Tarrant-that's the name of the man who drained you. It's important to me. I'll send Dalamar in to be with you." As he stood, a coughing fit too him for several minutes. Ari was shakily at his side in an instant, supporting him gently. For once he let her, he himself being drained from the act of bringing her back to life. As soon as the fit passed, he pulled away, exiting.   
  
Tarrant stood on the landing outside the door, pacing. He stopped when Raistlin emerged, "Well?"  
  
"I don't know what any of this has to do with me."  
  
"You are one of the most powerful men on this planet, nearly as close to the gods as the priests are. If there is a way to insure that the gods stay I would think that you would know of it."  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
"I followed my gods."  
  
Raistlin looked at him shrewdly, "Come, let's talk more of this in my laboratory. Dalamar," he called, "attend Ariana in my study."  
  
The elven apprentice heard this call from several flights up, and slammed his spell book shut, muttering curses under his breath, but did as his master had requested.   
  
Ari and Dal stared at each other from across the room.   
  
"Can I get you anything?" Dalamar asked.   
  
"Nope."  
  
There was another awkward pause.   
  
"Sooo... your sister's name is Bridgett?" Ari tried, conversationally.  
  
"Well, sort of. That's the human name that she took up the first time she went to earth. She likes it better than her elven name Brigetana."  
  
"Can't see why," Ariana breathed, fiddling with her blankets.   
  
"What was that?" Dalamar asked sharply.   
  
"Nothing. I was just saying that it was a pretty name. Um, I met the intruder that you guys couldn't stop. He's not very nice; he tried to kill me but Raist brought me back. Now they're talking in his lab. Apparently he's interesting or something."  
  
"Oh," was all Dalamar could manage at this slew of information. His Shalifi seemed to be fairly comfortable around her, perhaps he could draw out more information from her for the Conclave.   
  
"Do you know what they're talking about?" Dal asked.  
  
Ari's brow wrinkled in concentration, "Maybe something about magic leaving Krynn because the gods were abandoning it. I don't really know. I could probably find out for you, or you could just ask him yourself."  
  
"I couldn't possibly bother the Shalifi about something like that. He doesn't talk to me about things like that."  
  
"Oh, that's funny. I would think that with you being his apprentice, he would tell you everything."  
  
"Not quite." He approached the woman, digging one hand in his pocket for a spare bit of sand. He just had to get back to his studying and this chatter was very unproductive. He took out a pinch, and sprinkled it over her head, "Droshi," he murmured.   
  
She slipped down onto the couch, sleep claiming her. The dark elf pulled a blanket up over her shoulder and left quickly.   
  
Raistlin entered the study to check on Ari and bring her a little dinner. He found her fast asleep on the couch. He set the plate down on his desk and tucked the blanket around her a little more securely.   
  
Behind him the door opened and closed, bringing with it a soft voice, "Shalifi?"  
  
Raistlin turned to his apprentice, arms open. The dark elf entered his embrace, brushing his lips on his master's forehead. "I wasn't sure if you'd still be entertaining that mage," Dalamar breathed.  
  
"Why? Jealous?"  
  
Dalamar blushed, "You tease me. I missed you."  
  
Raistlin pulled him down for a deep kiss.   
  
Ari stirred, the slight noises having roused her. She lifted her head to see what had woken her and froze when she saw Dalamar and Raistlin together, kissing. Gathering her wits, she laid her head back down and pretended to wake a little louder, yawning and stretching. From the corner of her eye she saw them jump apart and face her. She turned her head and smiled at them nervously. "Hi," She gathered up her jacket and stood up. "Well, I feel refreshed. I think I'll take a walk." She made her way out of the room with what she hoped were casual steps. Once out of the room she nearly flew down the stairs to the courtyard.   
  
As soon as she was safely out she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. "That would be why he's been so... avoidant," she muttered to herself, "It's not like I would ever fall for someone who's attainable."  
  
"Are you alright?" Tarrant asked, approaching her out of the shadows.   
  
She jumped slightly. "Sure," she replied, edging away from him. "Does he seem homosexual to you?"  
  
"Who? Raistlin? No."  
  
"Well, he is."  
  
"Why does that concern either of us? Other than of course to alert me to the possibility of him coming on to me."  
  
"Because I kissed him," Ari snapped. "A couple of times."  
  
"That's not my problem," he shot back with a smirk.   
  
"But I though he liked me. He seemed to act that way."  
  
"So he swings both ways. Isn't that better?"  
  
"A little," she sniffed. "Hey, that was uncool what you did to me today."  
  
"I was hungry," he shrugged. "You're very fortunate that he came and saved you when he did. He does care for you."  
  
"Yeah, that's why he's up there sucking Dalamar's face," she grumped.   
  
"How long have you known him? Dalamar and he probably have been together for a while. You don't know what stage their relationship is at. It could be winding down."  
  
"Maybe," Ari assented, feeling a bit better, "You're not that bad of a person. Thanks for talking to me."  
  
"Well... you're tolerable, too," he added, feeling generous. Tarrant brusquely pat her arm on his way back inside.   
  
Ari sighed deeply, toeing the dirt for a while before she started back in, up the stairs, the cold and her sleepiness prodding her into action. When she entered the study a few minutes later, it was empty. Ari yanked off her jacket and shoes and quickly changed into a long lavender nightgown. She laid down on the cough and pulled up the blankets, falling asleep quickly.   
  
Ariana bolted awake, a strangled cry caught in her throat. It was a wonder she had even been able to wake herself. She jumped off the couch and ran across the room, wrenching the door that led to Raistlin's room open. A fire was still going, illuminating the stairs enough as she hurried down.   
  
Raistlin was lying on his back, trying to fall asleep. He sat up once he heard her pounding down the stairs. She sprung into his bed, crawling underneath the covers, despite his glare.   
  
"I had a nightmare," she explained, "You make me feel safe. Can I sleep down here tonight?" He didn't reply, but lay back down, his back facing her. She snuggled down, cautiously putting an arm around his waist and kissed the back of his neck.   
  
"What about Dalamar?" She asked him.   
  
"What about him?" the mage retorted, tensing.   
  
"You're with him, aren't you?"  
  
"Sort of. We're quitting," he went on, "It's complicated." At her silence he felt compelled to continue. "The relationship, for my part, wasn't based on feelings I had for him. A while ago he came on to me and I never turned him away. So 'this' grew from it. The lack of feelings isn't fair to him, so that's why I needed to come back when I did, aside from a few other reasons. I'm with you now, right?" He hoped that that last statement would further win her over.   
  
"How will he react?" She was far too caught up in poor Dalamar's feelings to notice his remark about her.   
  
"You tell me; you're the one good with reading emotions," he snapped.   
  
"I haven't had the opportunity, or the inclination, to read him. He'll probably be hurt. I can tell that much from his demeanor. I also think that he won't understand how you never had feelings, when he felt so deeply. But those are just guessed."  
  
"Mm." It was a non-committing sound on his part. Raistlin gave a little sigh at his thoughts. A disheartened, lovesick apprentice was just what he didn't need. Well, he would tell him tomorrow, and then he'd only have to deal with it for a short time until he went back to Solace. Hopefully by the time he came back Dalamar would be over it and have found himself a new lover.   
  
"Shalifi!" came his apprentice's shocked cry from the stairwell.   
  
Shit. Raistlin got up quickly and stood in front of the dark elf. "I've been meaning to tell you for some time that we are over. "  
  
"But-"  
  
"I've never loved you, Dalamar. The relationship we've had was something that was convenient for me, but I've moved on to other things and I suggest that you do so, also."  
  
The apprentice's eyes watered and he rushed out of the room.   
  
The remaining mage gave a half sigh, half roar of frustration. "What wonderful timing. Now I'll have him all weepy for the remainder of my stay. Thank you, Ariana."  
  
"What did I do?" she gasped, feeling awful about the encounter with the elf. "You were the one to speak so harshly."  
  
"You came into my life and turned it upside down! I had everything in order and under control and now nothing is how I wish it to be. At least if you had stayed on your respective couch I wouldn't have had to confront him until later! Go! Back upstairs! I don't want to see you until morning." His patience had run out.   
  
"Well you were the one who brought it upon yourself!" Ari shouted back, getting off the bed. "You should have had your shit taken care of before you even dreamed of me naked that first night!" She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. She really hadn't meant to tell him how much of his dreams she had been able to pick off him the morning before.   
  
A deep red flush seeped under his gold skin, and his eyes flashed angrily, "Go. Now. I regret ever bringing you back to life."  
  
Ari stood there, hand still over her mouth, staring at him, hurtfully. For the second time today tears sprang up, this time spilling down her cheeks. "Why are you so mean?" she sobbed, hurrying up the stairs before he could see her fully breakdown.   
  
Dalamar fairly danced into Par-Salian's study.   
  
The older white-robe looked up from his books wearily. "You're back early," he intoned.   
  
"He's found someone else!" The usually composed elf was near ecstatic, a state generally reserved for Kender and near impossible for an elf.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"He's found some girl! He broke off our 'relationship' and is starting one up with her. The good news is she talks; she's part kender. She told me all about the powerful mage who entered our tower. He thinks that our gods are planning to leave us and take their magic with them when they go."   
  
"You're babbling," the old man waived a hand dismissively. "The gods would never leave."  
  
"I told you that this so-called relationship with my Shalifi wouldn't get me anywhere. Now he thinks that I'm a blubbering idiot and will probably avoid me for a while, which gets me nowhere in my search for information. At least I don't have to sleep with him anymore." Dalamar shuddered at the memory of those golden hands snaking across his body. "You owe me one."  
  
"Dalamar, control yourself!" Par-Salian snapped. "Go and don't come back until you have something more conclusive." 


	7. Oath

Disclaimer: DL characters and Tarrant remain the respective property of those who created them (i.e: not me)  
  
AN: PLEASE READ. Those of you who have had questions and such at my abrupt and unceremonious turn of events, I would like to say a few things. First of all, thank you one and all for your comments and criticism. Whatever you have had to say I have taken it to heart. I do realize that I have managed to tweak Raistlin and Dal probably further out of proportion than is humanly possible. I am sorry, but it was to make a point of how heartless Raistlin can be and how he uses people without a thought (Case point: Chrysania); with the Tarrant thing, it was to show how collected he usually is. Also how Par-Salian will stop at nothing to get into Raist's head (i.e.: using Dalamar).   
  
This is why I made the 'predictable' slash attempt. A little considering on my part made it a little more believable that that sort of thing could have happened between them. If you think about it, if Raistlin hasn't had any sort of interest shown in him for years at a time, then suddenly someone comes on to him; I would think that he would cling to that gesture, in the hopes that something was there. However, upon consideration he would realize that he is clinging to something that is not based on anything. More like being in love with the idea rather than in love with the person sigh Did that make sense?   
  
I realize that the melodrama reached unestimated levels. I apologize, but I was writing out of the experience that breakups or anything even remotely relationship-wise does become 'soap-opera-esque' (ponders: maybe that's why it's so uncomfortable to watch soap operas, because it's a chance to step back and see how silly we all act when we're emotional {albeit devoid of murders, hopefully!}).   
  
Anyway, what's done is done and I apologize if I have betrayed you readers. I did what I thought needed to be done in order to fully show the turn-around of sorts and transformation that Raistlin is capable of. I hope from here on out I don't offend you or turn you away anymore than I already have.   
  
Please, if you have any questions, feel free to email me. I like discussing my thoughts and ideas. It's: tryinketthotmail.com  
  
On a lighter note, I try to answer your questions or fix anything that's wrong in subsequent chapters. Thank you all for reading, for giving me your honest opinions, and being polite about it. I truly respect you all for that. Thank you for continuing your journey with me. Damn... this AN's gonna be longer than the bloody chapter.  
  
Note: I've tweaked a wee bit of Tarrant's history so that it fit in with my story. If you're wondering, like me, when this whole ordeal is taking place, it's quite a while after the DL Chronicles, a little ways before the whole Time of the Twins bit sets in. So, in case you couldn't guess it, not only does he enter the abyss to become a god, it is to save the magic of Krynn... what a noble, uncharacteristic gesture.   
  
Ch 7: Oath  
  
Raistlin woke with a headache that promised not to leave him today. It was going to be one of those kinds of days. A sigh escaped his lips as he got up. There was too much to do and take care of. Dalamar and Ariana were two people he would have preferred not to talk to for a year or two. He didn't know what he felt about either of them. True, the so-called relationship was nothing more than another form of control that he so loved. There could be an underlying theme of need there, but he dared not delve into his psychosis with a headache; it would only make the pain increase. Ever since Ariana had skipped into his life, he had begun to think about things and people more. He had begun to feel things again. Her comment about the mirror had hit a nerve that he thought he had deadened quite a while ago. He had had the sudden urge to let her know that he wasn't proud of his disturbing appearance. It was all this sudden emotional introspection that had caused him to wonder if there had been anything between him and Dalamar, rather than anything else. If anything, what was starting to grow with Ari only proved that there was no room for the proverbial door to 'swing both ways'. He slipped his robes on, fixing the buttons and buckles slowly. He cared what they thought, he realized, as he made his way up the stairs, and he hadn't done that for a long time.   
  
Dalamar was there, waiting for him. "Shalafi-"  
  
Raistlin cut him short with a wave of his hand. "Wait a moment. I- I was harsh to you last night. What I said, while it was true, should not have been said like that. It was inappropriate."  
  
Dalamar arched one fine eyebrow. "Is that an apology?"  
  
"It's as close as you're going to get."  
  
The dark elf nodded. "Ariana and I spoke last night. She wanted to be returned to your brother's and so I took her. She wasn't comfortable here."  
  
Raistlin's eyes narrowed. "Oh. Fine. I've got too much to do anyway. I will leave you to your studies today. I have more to talk about with that strange mage, Tarrant."  
  
"Yes, about him," Dalamar began, "What exactly is he?"  
  
"A mage from another planet. We seem to be getting quite a few travelers, don't you think?"  
  
"Why did the forest not stop him? They stop even the most evil of creatures from entering."  
  
"To the best of my knowledge, I would say it was because they recognized him as one of their own-an evil not touched by time, preserved through his magic. His magic happens to be the reason he sought us out. Apparently his gods left, the magic fading shortly thereafter. While his gods were not linked directly to the magic of his planet, he thinks that their disappearance could have affected it somehow. So, seeing as he cannot survive without a little help, he followed their celestial 'footprints' to Krynn. Now, if that is all, Apprentice, I have work to do, as do you."  
  
"So what do you propose I do? Enter their realm and 'hogtie' them down? A mortal hardly has influence with the gods."  
  
"If you keep at least one of them here, then I don't think the magic will leave as it seems prone to do. Don't you have some means of... achieving this?"  
  
"Yes, actually. I've got a little bottle here on one of my shelves that was crafted especially to hold a god for several thousand years," Raistlin spat, rolling his eyes. "What do you take me for? I don't even know how you think I can trust you. You have given me no proof."  
  
"I didn't kill you when we first met. How is that for proof?"  
  
"The same could have been said of me."  
  
There was a silence in which both men considered things. They were at an impasse, apparently. If both of them wielded enough power to kill the other, that deed could happen at anytime. It would rely, then, on mutual agreement to not kill each other. They reached this conclusion at the same time.   
  
"Why exactly are we working together?" Raistlin asked, cautiously.   
  
"I would like to get my planet's magic back, so I can go home and do as I please, without planet-hopping. It tends to drain a person. I cannot, unfortunately, do that without you, so I require your aide. You're interested in my proposition because you're in danger of losing your magic. Make sense?" Tarrant asked sarcastically.   
  
The golden-eyed mage glared at him. "Perfect sense. I suppose now the next step would be to agree not to turn on one another?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
Raistlin rose from his stool in his laboratory and rummaged around on one of the many shelves that lined the walls. He came away with two amulets each on a black cord. They were little stone circles with small runes carved around the perimeter.   
  
"Then we will make an oath on these to never work against one another until our deed is done. Much as a circle binds and protects, so shall our oath bind us and protect us from betrayal." With a flick of his wrist, Raistlin had a small dagger in his hand. He cut a small incision into the palm of his hand and let the blood flow over the amulets. Then, he turned the handle of the blade towards Tarrant, dropping the bloodied amulets into his upturned hand. The silver-eyed mage took the proffered items and did the same, handing one talisman back once the deed was done.   
  
"We could have just shook hands," Tarrant reflected, fastening the amulet around his neck.   
  
"Right," Raistlin snorted, doing the same. 


	8. Alone and Lonely

Disclaimer: DL ppl aren't mine sobs dryly Ari is so bugger off

AN: The italics mean it's a flashback. Read on and enjoy!

Ch. 8: Alone and Lonely

The two mages, Raistlin and Tarrant sat around a large desk in Raistlin's laboratory. On the table in front of them was a large decanter of elven wine with several glasses lined up and several stacks of leather-bound tomes, sheets of parchment, and enough spare pens and ink to keep Astinous supplied for a decade. They were researching.

Raistlin murmured, introductorily, "One way in is the portal behind the steel door with runes of gold and silver inlaid. I myself have never been able to open it, for it takes two to open, a mage of great power and a cleric, or one who is truly holy. Obviously, I don't come in contact with holy people on a daily basis and I cannot drag one here-it must be voluntary. So, that idea is out,"

"What of Ariana?' Tarrant asked, looking up from a tome.

Raistlin snorted impolitely, "She may be 'good', but she is far from holy. That high-pitched voice of hers is enough to rouse the dead sometimes."

"Is there any other way in is there?"

"Well, there is the portal located at the bottom of the Blood Red Sea of Istar, but that's fairly impossible to get to without dying. Right now we'd be much better off concentrate on finding some sort of weakness or loophole to get them to remain. The Irda are rumored to have captured Chaos in the Greygem, but that was a long time ago and no one knows how it all happened.

"This is going to be fun," Tarrant muttered imperceptibly.

Six hours later Raistlin was having trouble concentrating. The letters and symbols that lined the pages swam and when they stayed in focus, he couldn't make any sense of them. He leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the built-up pressure there. As he had foretold, the headache had grimly held on, banging around inside of his brain the moment he thought it had nearly gone. Like he would be so lucky. When he rested his eyes for a moment his thoughts wandered back to Ariana and what he's said to her. Of all the stupid, inconvenient times for her to take him literally and actually leave; never mind the fact that he had meant it literally at the time. It frustrated him to no end! If she had at least stayed long enough for him to talk to her, it wouldn't have been as bad. But her leaving early meant that he'd had no time to talk to her-the whole purpose of her tagging along in the first place. Which, consequentially, meant that the mural could stand the chance of being ruined, which meant that he'd never live it down unless he disowned Caramon-not a bad idea. He chuffed to himself. Right. Then he'd feel guilty about that. Thanks, Ariana.

Tarrant glanced up at him. "You're not going to find a way to save the magic if you keep thinking about her."

Raistlin's eyes shot open. "I was not thinking of her. I am merely tired with all this reading and searching."

"Bullshit," Tarrant snapped back, "We've only been at it for six hours. You can't tell me you've never studied this long."

The golden-eyed mage shifted uncomfortably and went back to flipping through the tomes. He pushed aside thoughts of Ariana and any feelings he had and pulled back on what cool reason he had left.

A tentative knock sounded at the laboratory door.

"Enter, Dalamar," Raistlin called out softly, glancing up as his apprentice entered.

"I apologize for disturbing you, but I thought you might like something to eat. Ariana asked that I made sure you ate." He set a tray of fruits and bread and several kinds of cheese. His sweeping gaze took in all the large spell books littering the table, enviously. Par-Salian be damned, he didn't care about spying, he just wanted to be in this room to learn all that he could.

"Since when did you start taking orders from her? You aren't a maid." Raistlin was secretly touched and openly annoyed.

The elf characteristically arched an eyebrow. "Really. You've had me fooled at times, Shalifi." He withdrew with a bow before Raistlin could retort.

"Damn CDs," Ariana muttered, standing in front of the mural, fiddling with her CD player. She was finding out how severely limited her collection was; all she seemed to be listening to was some form of relationship-based songs. Even her Gothic CDs were gloomily singing about someone. At least Blink-182 and Cranberries were angry about it-that sort of helped. She sighed forcefully and chose Nickleback; she had to get back to painting this thing, not just standing around being weepy over some dumb lyrics.

She was working on the under painting of the mural. A burnt sienna sort of color would do, she figured, giving the overall picture a warm tinge and unifying the colors she would paint over most of it. As she worked, she thought back to her conversation with Dalamar...

_"I'm sorry about you and Raistlin, not working out," Ari murmured to the dark elf, after she had dried her tears and chased up the stairs after him. They were now on the landing outside of his chambers. _

_"No, you aren't," he retorted, a thin smile on his lips. "I could tell we made you uncomfortable."_

_"Not in the sense that you were two men together, because that doesn't bother me. I've many friends like that. I was bothered because I like him a lot. I love him. I felt betrayed and jealous seeing you two together. It was like that nullified all that he had said and done for me."_

_"What has he done for you?" Dalamar sneered._

_"He brought me back to life," she whispered, tearing up again. "And now he wishes he hadn't." _

_"How did you die?" he asked, his interest pricked. _

_"Tarrant drained me and that made me so very weak, I just couldn't hold on to life. I felt like I was floating in a whirl of color and chaos, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of it." Ari shivered at the memory. "Tell me about you. Why did you start with him?"_

_Dalamar gave a sigh, "It's complicated; it was more of a learning experience that a try at a relationship. I thought maybe if I got close to him I could learn more than I was as just an apprentice."_

_Ariana was appalled at his statement. "You did that for learning's sake? Did you two... you know... sleep together?"_

_The dark elf shuddered, "Takhesis, no! Kissing and hugging was more than enough!"_

_"Was it worth it?"_

_A short laugh escaped Dalamar's lips, "No. I think he was more distrustful of me when I was close to him than when I was his apprentice."_

_"Mmm... That's too bad." _

_There was a silence between them for a few moments. _

_"Do you think you could take me back to the Inn of the Last Home?" Ari asked abruptly. "I really can't stay here any longer-he hates me." _

_Dalamar nodded. "I've got a transporting ring that you can use." He dug briefly in one of his many pockets and pulled out a small ordinary-looking ring. "Not much to look at, but it's powerful. Send it back with Raistlin when he comes, which I know he will." He extended it to her with one thin pale hand. _

_She took it and put it on her finger, then reached out and gave him a hug. That was a mistake, she shortly found out. After a whirl of confusion in which she buried herself into his robes, finding that he didn't smell unlike his master, the spell components playing a large role in the matter, she found herself and the dark elf standing outside the city of Vallenwood trees._

_"Did I mention it works as soon as you put it on?" Dalamar snapped, prying the ring off her small finger and jamming it onto his own._

_"Sorry," she called out to his disappearing form. "I figured I had to say something in order for it to work." And she was alone, in the deepening night._

He was really a nice fellow, she reflected, taking her back here at her request. She had gotten images off of him if she wanted to analyze him later on.

Right now all that she wanted was to get this thing done with and get back home. Caramon and Tika were so friendly-they made her feel welcome. Raistlin, on the other hand, put her off balance. He had been the only reason she would have even thought of staying any longer after the mural was done and now he was the sole reason she didn't want to stay any longer than she had to. But now she was thinking of him and that was the last thing she wanted. Crossly she pushed him from her thoughts and continued.

No one knew she was home yet and that was how she wanted it. Let them ask the questions later when she was in a steadier frame of mind and could deal with it. Her things were still on the floor next to the table that her paints and brushes were on, in the duffle bag. She hadn't had time to put things away yet.

She tried blocking everything that was a distraction, using the music to channel her concentration to the paint at hand. Her whole body went into the brushstrokes, furiously working, scrubbing at the wall. She was at it for what seemed like a few minutes, but when she stepped back she had completed the under painting and it was beginning to become daylight. Ari cleaned her brushes, set up a barricade of chairs, and left with her things for her room.

She hadn't gone more than a couple paces when she ran into Tasselhoff.

"Oh, hello! Caramon said that you wouldn't be back for a few more days, but here you are! He said that you were with Raistlin in his tower. Is it a really neat place? I've never been there, but I've heard lots about it-I can't believe he let you go with him. Only his apprentice is there now, and he is fairly new. A dark elf isn't he? Where are you going? Are you all right because you've got a really funny expression on your face. It looks like you've got something in your eye. I once had something in my eye and it wouldn't go away and my eye got all swollen and red and Flint, do you remember us talking about Flint, well, he said that I looked like a bee had made a hive right in my very eye. Can you imagine-oh!" His prattling was cut short when he saw that she had burst into tears. He took her hand in his, and led her back into the Inn. "What's the matter?"

She sniffled a little, taking the proffered handkerchief from him and wiping her eyes. "Everything. So, I went back with him because I wanted him to tell me more about himself so I could understand him. Well, we never got a chance to talk because this other strange mage appeared and drained me so I died-"

"You died!! What was it like? Did you see Flint? I've never died before," Tas sighed jealously.

"I wasn't gone long. Everything was chaotic and I got the feeling of a multitude of people around me. I don't think it was a final place, but just sort of an in-between, haven't-gotten-there-yet place. He pulled me out and saved me. Then I saw him and Dal together and got jealous. We had this fight and he said that he wished he had never brought me back. That's why I left. I couldn't face him in the morning, knowing that he hated me." She leaned her head on her folded arms that were on a table. "I really do love him... I just don't understand why he won't let me. And I'm afraid of being used, like he used Dalamar."

"I don't think I've ever been in love," Tas commented.

"It's simultaneously the best and the worst feeling in the world."

"Doesn't you stomach get queasy? I was tossed really high up in the air once and I felt like that. Once I landed, I puked up my lunch all over Caramon. He didn't think it was fun, even though I told him it was and asked him to toss me up again."

Ari managed a choked laugh at this.

Raistlin slammed the book he was reading shut and stood to his feet so violently the chair he had been sitting on was knocked back. Tarrant didn't start, but turned his silver eyes up from his book to regard the other mage.

"There is nothing to be found," Raistlin stated coldly, moving away from the table. "The only way is to find a cleric and open the portal with them. Goddess knows how I am to do that." He started stacking the tomes up to return them to their respective shelves. Tarrant reluctantly pushed the book he'd been reading away, adding it to the tower of books that were quickly forming. The thin mage took the first few and shelved them on the proper shelves in the laboratory. Then he grabbed the rest of them and began to leave.

A sudden coughing spell nearly leveled him; he had to lean against the wall to steady himself. The tomes slipped from his spasming fingers and cascaded in a night blue and black waterfall. The silver-eyed mage rose silently, going to collect the precious books that had tumbled down.

When Raistlin had ceased his coughing, he stood as tall as he could. "I don't need your help," he wheezed, grasping for the books back.

"I wasn't helping you; I was saving the books," Tarrant snapped, gently pushing the frail mage away and striding through the door and onto the landing. He made his way up the stairs as if he owned the tower, heading for Raistlin's study.

Raistlin fumed silently at the other mage's back, considering if it would be worth the destruction of the spell books to rid him of that foully arrogant man, then decided against it. The spell books were very precious. His ever-working mind went to the problem of how to get a cleric. Where exactly did one meet a cleric? They certainly didn't spend their time at taverns or inns; and he shuddered at the thought of going to a temple. He wasn't even sure if he was able to enter a temple to the gods of good. Surely they would keep someone like him away. Then, the question was, how to approach a cleric outside of their temples. Did they leave to go home at night, or did they stay there, housed somewhere inside? There was also the problem of how to judge a truly holy cleric from the ones who were not in it heart and soul. He would have to find someone he had heard of, and by his or her status, risk the chance that they would know his name and shirk from him. What would draw them from their temple and into his 'web' so to speak?

He glared at the still-remaining chalk drawing of what he presumed was himself next to his door, swiping it away with his sleeve. Raistlin pushed past Tarrant, once they were both inside, and grabbed the books from his grasp. He turned his back on the tall mage to re-shelve them.

"If you're in such a foul mood," Tarrant told him, "why don't you just go and see her and talk things over? It'll make you able to concentrate better afterwards."

Raistlin jammed the books in their place with more force than entirely necessary. "I don't," slam "want," slam "to talk," slam "to," slam "her!" slam, slam. "We have nothing to discuss."

The silver mage shook his head, "I need to feed; I'll be back in a few days. I hope you can get yourself together by then because right now you are alone and lonely without her. Something needs to change." With that, he swept from the room, vanishing before he reached the door.


	9. Pinpricked

Disclaimer: the usual AN: Now that I'm free for the summer I'll be able to write a lot more often and a lot more, period! the peasants rejoice Except for when unforeseen events cause one to help paint half of a huge house, which is what I was doing last week sighs. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing my work and giving me such wonderful and useful criticism. I really appreciate you guys (and gals), one and all! Please, please, review after you read this. I am getting a slowdown in my reviews and I don't know whether that means that I suck and no one's reading this anymore, or you're all too busy to review. snuffles and feels unloved  
  
Ch 9: Pinpricked  
  
'Bloody, egotistical, insufferable, arrogant, unendurable, prick of a mage,' he fumed. Raistlin seriously considered throwing a book at the door through which Tarrant had passed. It wouldn't do any good, though, he reasoned, and would damage a perfectly good door, which was more trouble than it was worth to magically reconstruct. He sighed and sank into the chair behind his desk. Never in his life had he felt so indecisive about matters concerning himself. He got up, studied his magic, experimented a little, instructed Dalamar when he needed it, and decided when he ate and slept. He didn't listen to anyone, because no one knew what made him tick, so to speak. He had no need for council, always knowing his mind perfectly. Except in this matter.  
  
Tarrant's advice had been sound, he grudgingly admitted. But he rebelled against being told what to do, especially by that... that... His fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically. He should, however, go and... well, he couldn't think of a reason why he should see her again. Ah, wait, the mural. Raistlin pondered this excuse for a minute. True, it was a pitiful excuse and in a part of his mind, not too far from the surface, he knew he didn't care about his twin's pet project. But it was an excuse nonetheless and at least it hadn't come from Gerald Tarrant.  
  
He rose to his feet, reaching for the staff that immediately appeared in his hand. He made his way to his apprentice's chambers and knocked softly at the door.  
  
The door swung open to admit him, revealing the tall elf behind it. "Yes, Shalifi?"  
  
"Dalamar, I'm leaving again for my brother's. I shouldn't be gone for more than a day or two. Hopefully, this will be my last visit for a very long time. If Tarrant should arrive back before I do, would you see to it that he doesn't go poking through my things? He is allowed the use of my night-blue bound books, but not my personal black ones. "  
  
"Of course," the young elf paused for a moment, "Are you going back to see her?"  
  
Anger flashed dangerously in his master's eyes. Was nothing in his personal life sacred from prying minds?! "Is it of your concern?"  
  
"No, I was merely curious for the girl's sake; she was fairly certain that you hated her," replied Dalamar. "Have a safe trip, Shalifi."  
  
Raistlin shrugged at this comment and quit the landing in a blink of the eye, leaving Dalamar to his studies again.  
  
Back to painting. Her shoulders were beginning to ache from the long night of standing before the wall. It probably hadn't helped that she didn't go to bed after talking to Tas, but stayed up thinking. She had used a chair and then a stepladder to reach the top of the mural. Colors were beginning to touch everyone, though the details would come much later. Faces of course were last. It would be a treat to work on them, finally, a partial reason why she saved them.  
  
Everyone knew she was back, and thanks to Tas, probably knew the particulars of why she had come back so soon. A small laugh escaped her lips—her uncle thoroughly amused her. His prattle was usually welcome and helped lighten her heart. Being part kender, herself, her heart should have lightened itself on its own, but there seemed to constantly be a shadow on it, and she knew it didn't have anything to do with a certain mage. Her work and the people around her were the problem.  
  
The Centre was a place that was constantly a hub of negative emotions. They were a research facility that had more under the surface than an onion had layers. She knew that genetic experiments were done there, subtly hidden under the guise of research. They had implicit government connections high up and a network of people nationwide. She couldn't even guess at what all they had up their sleeve.  
  
All she was was a diplomat that went between her company and their connections to strengthen ties and form alliances. When she had been younger, she acted as one of their Pretenders, albeit a weaker one than the others; her strengths lay in her Empath abilities, which is why she had worked her way up to Centre Diplomat. The team of Pretenders, one of which her cousin, Alysa, was joined to, was the 'think tank' of the company, generating a solution to the seemingly endless problems which the Centre posed. The company was run by a triumvirate, a group of three whose identities had always remained a secret. There were rumors that Alysa's grandfather was one of the members, but like the confused lineages within the company, the truth was bound up in a series of knots that were more trouble unknotting than it was worth. Besides, there would always be a series of new questions that arose in response to one truthful answer.  
  
She had almost learned to stop questioning and just let things be. Her family was tied to the Centre in many of these knots, which is why she had not outright left the facility. Her father was the product of the Centre, and one of the sons to the late wife of the Corporate Head, Mr. Parker, thought not his son. She groaned. Trying to go over the family tree in her mind hurt. She had attempted to map it all out with Alysa one rainy afternoon, when they hadn't anything better to do. Several crumpled sheets, a headache, and more than one dead pen later, they had come up with something unintelligible due to the crossed lines and scribbled notes written beside each person. They had given up.  
  
The darkness that surrounded the Centre had become almost warm and fuzzy, so used to it was she. When she had told him that evil was something she could be comfortable with, she had meant it. Which didn't necessarily mean she was ready to go steal fetus and inject chemicals into them to see what pretty colors they would turn, it just meant she wasn't as pure and good as he might think she was.  
  
She swiftly turned to put a paintbrush into the jar of water on the table behind her and came face to chest with something black and velvety. Her heart leapt into her mouth and a strangled exclamation burst forth even as she choked on the pumping muscle, forcing it back down into her chest cavity.  
  
"Bloody--!" she ripped her earphones off, glancing up at the bemused mage. "You've got to announce yourself or something, mate! Nearly spat up my heart there." Ari took her CD player from where it was tucked in her jeans, nestled at the small of her back, disentangled herself from the wire, and landed it on the table. Then she slammed her brush into the jar, swirling it around a couple of times to clean it. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"You look horrible," he commented, sitting down at the table where she worked. She had dark shadows under her eyes and her normally pale skin had a lack of color to rival bleached bones.  
  
"Thanks; nice to see you, too. I haven't slept yet, so I probably do look like the living dead."  
  
Raistlin shook his head, "My guardians look better than you do."  
  
Ari pointedly ignored him, brushing her bangs from her eyes irritably. She continued to clean the brushes that were lined up on the table, patiently waiting for such a moment as this. The pain in her back and shoulders spread into her head. Patience, she felt, was going to be hard to dredge up. Perhaps if she ignored him, he would go away and tend to whatever he had come to do.  
  
In a few minutes when she had everything all clean, she looked up. He was still there, staring unnervingly at her with those sharp golden eyes. She dropped her gaze and put the things in order, took up her CD player and turned to leave. To her dismay, he followed her all the way back to the house, keeping a few steps behind her.  
  
At the door, she whirled around and hissed at him, "What do you want?"  
  
"To talk to you," he replied, taking her by the wrist and drawing her inside before they attracted the attention of the early risers of Solace. He drug her all the way to his room, and shut the door behind her before she could protest. "Let's get a couple of things straight before we begin. I did not mean for you to leave and I do not hate you. You annoy me at times, but it does not go as deep as hatred."  
  
Ariana was speechless at him opening up and offering information. She sat down on the rug in front of him and looked up expectantly, waiting for more information. He went over to a small table and poured two glasses of wine, handing one to her and taking the second for himself.  
  
She looked down at the glass and sniffed it experimentally. She was only 20 and hadn't yet reached the age where drinking was permissible; her grandfather kept close tabs on her and her cousin to make sure they followed the rules. She glanced around cautiously as if he might appear out of the woodwork. Well, it smelled good, anyway. She dipped a tongue in and gave it a taste. It was slightly bitter but gave her a heady aftertaste that wasn't unpleasant; she took a large swallow. And immediately choked. She was able to catch her breath after a minute of coughing.  
  
Ari looked up into Raistlin's odd expression. "'S good," she told him, leaving out the bit that she had never had it before, in case they had the same rules on this planet. She waived a hand, "Continue."  
  
"Well, we obviously had a misunderstanding. Things were... more hectic than usual at my tower. The mage, Gerald Tarrant, wasn't expected, nor was the news he brought. And I had nearly forgotten about... the thing with Dalamar," he ended lamely. He sipped at his glass, watching her empty hers in another large gulp. "Would you like more wine?" At her nod, he uncorked the bottle again and poured her another glass. "It's more enjoyable if you drink it slowly," he told her.  
  
"But it's so good," she giggled, vowing to sip it this time. Already the pains were leaving her, letting her relax and take in his words with more consideration.  
  
"What I said to you wasn't true—about how I had wished that I had never brought you back to life. I was angry."  
  
She nodded; in her chest a little tight clasp undid itself and she felt that she could breathe for the first time in a few days. "Yeah, that whole scene was... soap-opera-like. I can't believe you said half the things you did. I think I acted something like that out with my Barbies when I was seven." At his strange look, she quickly explained. "Soap operas are these shows where people act all melodramatic and... well... like what happened the other night. Though there should be at least one murder thrown in there and one of you should have been pregnant with someone else's child. It's all acting. Housewives eat those things up. And Barbies, well, I think the person who they were modeled after was a German whore, but they don't tell you that. They're just dolls now. Every little girl in America has at least one; they're what everyone wants to grow up to be. Not a whore. Pretty and thin," she nodded conclusively, thinking that she probably confused him more than explained what she had meant. Oh, well. "But thank you for telling me that. I was worried. It's worse than someone wishing you dead, because at least that way they feel bad afterward and you usually don't die. But if you're dead, and someone goes to the trouble of bringing you back, then they decide it wasn't worth the energy put into it, then you really feel bad—because they made the effort. Does that make sense? Because, after what I just said, I don't know if it makes sense—"  
  
Raistlin's mouth drew itself into a thin line, as he leaned forward and laid her fingers over her mouth, "Yes." When he sat back up, he reached into his robes and pulled something out. It was a black rose that he handed to her. "From my garden. I was clearing them out—I just had too many."  
  
"One too many?" she teased, taking it to her nose and inhaling. "Mm, so this is what you always smell of. Thank you." A thought popped into her head, "So did you find out what you were wondering? About the magic and the gods leaving and everything. That is why Tarrant's here isn't it? And did you apologize to Dalamar?"  
  
"Of course. What do you take me to be?" He was once again on his guard. "How did you know about Tarrant?"  
  
"Well, it's not like you kept it a secret. If you're going to talk that close to a door that I'm behind you should do it more quietly and in a place that doesn't echo as much. I'm surprised Dalamar didn't know what was going on. I had to fill him in for you. And I had to ask if you were civil to him, because you seem like someone who never says 'sorry' or 'thank you' or anything else polite. He deserves some respect."  
  
His eyebrows knit together. "What? Why? Just because he brought you back here?"  
  
"No, because he's a person and he adores you—not in a sexual way, but as an apprentice completely consumed by your knowledge. You should see the way he looks when he talks about you—he cannot wait to learn all that there is. That's why he sought to become physically closer to you—in hopes that he would gain more knowledge. You don't keep him very well informed. I had to tell him what you two were talking about. He seemed very interested. He really is a very nice man, you should be nicer to him," she gave him a pointed stare, lifting her glass for another refill. He did so, topping off his own glass.  
  
Raistlin shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You shouldn't talk to him."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He's a spy for my enemies," he shot back, filling his glass again, satisfied by her shocked expression.  
  
Her ears visibly perked up. "A real life spy? Like 007?" then she leaned forward and whispered, "Who're your enemies?"  
  
A grin almost touched his lips. He also leaned forward, a serious expression on his face, playing her game, "Everyone."  
  
She sat back up incredulously, "Not everyone can be your enemy. What are you, paranoid?"  
  
"No. The other mages fear my power. Dalamar is their way of keeping track of my growing abilities and goals."  
  
"What can you do? Make bigger fireballs?" Her eyes were wide as she regarded the mage with wonder.  
  
He snickered softly, "I could take over the world, if I so wished."  
  
"Wow... my cousin and I always joke about taking over the world. We say: 'When I take over the world...' and conclude with some obscure random wish, like 'there will be no such thing as lima beans'. So, why don't you take over the world and just be done with it?"  
  
"I've greater goals."  
  
Her eyebrows raised, "Oh. Well, then." She blinked several times at him, trying to put two and two together from what Dalamar had said and done and the images she had gotten off of him. He was extremely nosy about what was going on with his Shalifi and had said that Raistlin didn't really tell him anything. The motivation for learning was there, though obviously self- imposed goal could also be translated into gathering information for a supposedly secret source. One image that stood out in her mind was a half- circle of what she took to be mages all of affiliations and a feeling of pride mixed with fear for what was being spoken of. It made sense what Raistlin was saying, and, if Dal was anything like his sister, Bridgette, then he was definitely capable of it. At the Centre, Bridgette was fairly certainly a spy for the triumvirate and definitely a sworn enemy of hers and Alysa's. A seed of doubt began to quickly sprout in her heart against Dalamar that would soon grow into hatred to match that for his sister.  
  
Raistlin leaned back and smiled cynically. He could practically hear the wheels grinding over this new bit of information, and much as he had hoped, it looked like she soon wouldn't trust Dalamar. Just let his apprentice try to wheedle information out of her now.  
  
They sat in silence, each regarding their glass of wine, swirling it around and sipping it lightly. The sky outside the window was becoming touched with pink and an occasional bird lifted its voice in morning song. Already slight warmth was creeping into the world with the sun. Ariana glanced up at this and blinked at it sleepily.  
  
"I can't seem to get warm," she murmured, rubbing at her arms absently. "Ever since Tarrant... I'm always cold."  
  
"Why do you care about things?" Raistlin asked, at the same time, looking up from his glass to find that she was an ashen color.  
  
"Because to not care would be to not live at all. Apathy, not only is draining, but it doesn't give anything back, while caring for things... is like investing in something. I am emotionally driven. To not be so would be betraying myself. How can you not care for things?"  
  
"Most things are not worth caring about. I have my goals, what drives me, and anything beyond that doesn't really matter."  
  
"I see," she stood to her feet, wobbling slightly as she plinked down the glass and clutched the rose to her chest, unmindful of the thorns that dug into her hand, leaving wells of blood. The tight feeling was back in her chest again. "I don't 'fit' into your goals, do I?"  
  
"That's what I'm here to find out," he told her calmly, rising to steady her. "Do you still need to talk to me about who I am, or have you figured out how heartless I am all by yourself?"  
  
She shook her head, nearly losing her balance, and grasping to his arms, "Silly dear, you've got a heart as golden as your eyes—it just needs a lot of polish. Don't you know," she told him, "that love forgives everything."  
  
Raistlin nearly dropped her in his surprise. After all he had said and done it amazed him that she could see any good in him. He had thought that he had driven her away sufficiently enough so that she would never talk to him again. A small raft of hope subconsciously appeared within him and he clung to it desperately.  
  
Another fun note: The whole CD player fiasco is quite true to me. I always go about the house, doing my thing, and listening to music. People will come up behind me or come into the room and I won't notice them until I turn around. Then I scream and if anything is in my hand, I usually reflexively throw it at them. Figured, tho, if Ari threw the paintbrush at Raist he wouldn't be too happy and our protagonist would be fried to a crisp. . 


	10. A Twee Bit Way Too Much

Disclaimer: the same thing I've been telling you for the last nine chapters.  
  
AN: I propose a theory about earth that's a little far-fetched. It shouldn't offend you, because it's just a theory and it's just for the sake of the story. I don't actually believe this (even though it would be pretty cool).  
  
Ch 10: A Twee Bit Way Too Much  
  
Raistlin could clearly see that she was drunk—about as drunk as they come without passing dead out. The effects of the wine had not quite reached that point in his system, he was relaxed and had a mildly 'floating' feeling. It was pleasant really, with her there, clinging to him and swaying ever so gently as if to music. Ask anyone and they would have said that he too was drunk.  
  
She was glaring at her surroundings in general, trying to figure out what was making them spin so much. Ari glanced down at her feet, in attempt to see if they were the ones doing the spinning, but only succeeded in becoming vertigo. Abruptly she shut her eyes and leaned against him, which made her feel like she wasn't moving anymore. She chanced to open one eye and immediately the whirling commenced. A groan escaped her lips as she squinched her eyes firmly closed. It wasn't all that bad to stand here next to him. In fact, he was quite warm and she loved it. She moved so that instead of clenching his arms with her hands, she had her arms wrapped around his middle.  
  
"We cannot stay this way forever," he told her, chuckling.  
  
She nodded in disagreement. "Can too. I'm comfortable." She hugged him tighter, forgetting the rose in her hand until it pricked her to remind her of its presence. "Besides, I think I'm horribly drunk," she slurred nearly imperceptibly.  
  
"How does that make your point?'  
  
"Too drunk to go anywhere else. The world spins when I open my eyes. Better just stay here with you," she giggled at her situation.  
  
"What am I to do with you?" he asked, too amused to say anything else.  
  
She shrugged unsteadily. "Help me sit, and then talk to me some more. Why don't you look like Caramon? Aren't you supposed to be twins?"  
  
Raistlin sighed, depositing her on the floor where she immediately toppled over and laid on her back. Her vision was a lot steadier once she was lying down.  
  
"Well," he began, arranging his robes around him so that he could sit comfortably on the floor beside her, "to become a mage, one has to talke a very dangerous test. At the completion, they choose the color of the robes of the gods they most affiliate with. Each test for each person is different—it is molded especially for the individual. Nearly everyone is affected by the test in some shape or form. That is why I look as I do. My eyes were a 'gift' from Par-Salian, the head of the Conclave. They are to teach me compassion, but as you can clearly see, I have no capacity for such a thing. I came out changed in body and soul, wearing the red robes. Due to circumstances later on, I changed to black." Before she could ask what said circumstances were, he asked her a question, "What is it like on your world? You have mages and kender and elves, I gather."  
  
Ari frowned in concentration. "It's really hard to explain. You see, everything is something, we haven't too many real humans, but they just don't know it.' At his creased forehead, she continued, "The way it works, as it was explained to me, is that there is one God. He is known to each culture as someone different, but is essentially the same. Even to those that have many gods, it is just different aspects of the same god. In order to create unity on the planet, we all appear in the image he finds most pleasing—human. However, within each person is a true identity—an elf, an ogre, a fairy. This true form is not released until the person believes in what we call the fantasy realm. This is where all the true forms come from. Once they believe, their true selves become apparent, as does those of everyone around them. Children and those of pure hearts can automatically see. That is why children feed off of fairy tales or report seeing magical things. Usually, when they grow up, they are influenced by the world that says that there are no such things. Most children lose their sight and sometimes never regain it. I, for example, always believed and wasn't touched by the world. So I have lived in my true form since I was born. My father and grandfather both know, but no one else in my family is aware. I've tried to open their eyes, but grandpa says that they need to learn of it in their own way. Does that make sense?"  
  
Raistlin's brow had remained furrowed for the duration of her discourse. He slowly nodded, more caught up in the one god theory than anything. "So, if you only have one god is it not chaotic? How does that god deal with good and evil?"  
  
"He is essentially good, though he does not force himself upon us. We have free will to do as we see fit."  
  
"What use is such a god if he doesn't influence?"  
  
"He's there to comfort us. It is better that there is someone there than an empty nothingness, don't you think?" she urged.  
  
Raistlin shrugged, "I don't know. This is a very strange concept. Alright, so about you... what is this Empath/Pretender thing you talk about?"  
  
"It started out as yet another genetic experiment several generations ago. Those people had children, and several of those were either Pretenders or Empaths, or a fun little hybrid of the two. Instead of needing to tamper with those children, they isolated them so that they could tap their abilities. Some of them escaped and began families of their own. 'Special' children kept popping up so the Centre had no end to the supply of thinkers and planners they needed. Often times, the Centre would take the children under the premise of enrolling them into a privet school. Parents couldn't complain because the Centre has ways of insuring cooperation, many of them ending in bloodshed. Being raised in the air ducts of such a place gives a person a wonderful inside look at a corrupt corporation; makes one feel like one lives in a movie or at least a very good thriller novel." She had been absently examining the ceiling, but turned her attention back to the mage, "This is fun. Like 20 questions. Is it bigger than a breadbox?"  
  
"Is what bigger than a breadbox?" He asked, thinking frantically back to any mention of said breadbox.  
  
"I think that's the first question you ask. The next one, I think, is; is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"  
  
"And that's a game one plays?'  
  
"Only when one is desperate and past the point of no return sanity-wise. My turn to ask something... let's see... do you really hate your brother?"  
  
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do. Most of the time," he amended. "He doesn't understand me and he pities me. What's not to hate?"  
  
"But he's your brother!" she defended.  
  
"Which is why I don't hate him all of the time. He occasionally redeems himself, and then just as quickly, muddles things up again." Raistlin saw no need at this point to withhold anything in particular. Exposing himself would only draw her in more, sealing her off to any other outside influence. "My turn. How are you getting back home?"  
  
Ari looked blank for a moment. "Good question. I'm not entirely positive. Grandpa said he's be keeping in touch, but he never said how." She giggled suddenly, "I know! They've stranded me here in hopes of never seeing me again! That would be my Auntie Parker's doing. She thinks I'm a horrible influence on Alysa."  
  
"When you do return home, may I come with you?" he asked.  
  
She cast him a dubious look, "I don't know if it'd be allowed."  
  
"And you having free reign on my plant is?" he crossed his arms, glaring stubbornly at her.  
  
"Hey, it's alright with me—I just don't know if you'd fit in—"  
  
"Better than you did here," he snapped. "Unlike you, I would be careful of what I said to people."  
  
"You don't have to be so defensive," she huffed. "I get to ask questions now. First off, why did you switch to black robes, and secondly, why are you actually answering my questions?"  
  
"You aren't allowed to ask that!" he protested.  
  
"Am too," she prodded his leg in an attempt to be menacing. "Answer the questions."  
  
It had tickled more than menaced. Raistlin snorted, batting her hand away. "I switched because of my deeds—they merited a black robe rather than red. It was also a decision influenced by a... by someone close to me." A grim smile touched his lips, spreading them thinly. It was as close as he could get to the truth without giving much away. "I am being accommodating so that we can get to know each other better." A tiny half-truth, but what he knew she wanted to hear.  
  
She frowned, mildly suspicious. "Hmm. What happened to all of this 'I'm a secretive, personal person'?"  
  
"Isn't a person allowed to change?" he retorted, hoping to catch her in her own stream of logic.  
  
"Well, yes," Ari concluded. She shifted positions and tried to sit up, hoping that the room would cooperate with her vision. Things seemed fairly stable. Maybe she was getting better. "Does Tanis feel like this? This... not really belonging anywhere feeling?"  
  
Raistlin considered this. He knew the half-elf was deeply at war with himself over which side of his heritage he belonged to; that much had been evident in his physical struggle between commitment to Kitiara or Laurana years ago. He only supposed that Tanis had found a balance between the two. "He used to. I think he resolved things within himself, though, years ago. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Because I'm not light-hearted enough to feel really comfortable with other kender and not graceful enough to gain approval when I'm with elves. I just feel out of sorts sometimes." She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "Do you ever feel that way about other mages? Like you don't belong?"  
  
"All the time. One gets used to it, though. You will, too, if you're able to convince yourself that it doesn't matter that you fit in."  
  
"I think I'm mostly there; it's only occasionally that I feel funny."  
  
Raistlin regarded her. She still had her paint clothes on. The dark blue material of her pants was ripped in either knee and fairly plastered with a multitude of painted colors. Her gray long-sleeved shirt wasn't covered in paint, which he figured was due to the covering nature of the button-up shirt that she wore over whatever she had on. That was still at the Inn and neatly folded, under the paintbrushes. Over one cheek was a blue swipe of color and on her hands were various colors. It was at one of these offensive colors that she turned her attention, picking absently at her nail. The rose he had given her lay on one bare knee.  
  
"Are you feeling less dizzy?" he asked.  
  
"So far so good. It was really bad when I stood up, so I think I like it right here on the floor. Right now my head's working on the ultimate headache. Presently, it's just a dull roar, but I know it's going to kill me later on. With luck I'll be unconscious at that point."  
  
"I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet."  
  
She nodded, "Note to self: moderation is the key."  
  
A chuckle escaped Raistlin's lips. "I believe I told you to take it a little slower. Especially if you've never had it before."  
  
Ari shot him a look, "How'd you know?"  
  
He smiled thinly, "Magic."  
  
Outside birds were in full chorus and people could be heard moving around, taking care of daily chores before the day's heat grew unbearable. Already the day promised to be characteristically hot. It was to the window that his gaze was drawn, as there was once again a lapse of silence in their conversation. Surprisingly talking with her was growing easier and easier. Initially he had manipulated their conversations so that he could get as much information from her as possible, he hadn't been interested in learning anything about her other than what was beneficial to him. Now, he found that he enjoyed talking without a specific goal in mind. It helped ease the loneliness that sometimes felt like it was gnawing at his heart.  
  
Raistlin nearly jumped out of his skin when Ari's head hit his lap, interrupting his musings. He bent over her still form, wondering what had happened. Her wine-breath and gentle snoring greeted him. Gently he poked her side. She gave a snort, burying her head into his legs further. He gave another prod, but it did not budge her anymore. A sigh escaped his lips as he struggled out from underneath her head, trying not to let her slam into the floor, albeit covered with an area rug.  
  
He coughed softly as he rose to his feet. The wine bottle and gasses he deposited in the kitchen to be cleaned later and returned to his room. It looked like Caramon and Tika weren't yet up. Ari's prone form still lay on the floor, unmoving. He snickered softly, vastly amused by her inexperienced experience.  
  
From a drawer he removed a quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment. He sat at the table and scribed a short letter to her, folding it in half. Raistlin placed it under the rose that was now on the ground. She would find it when she woke up, along with the sensations of nausea, and a headache to rival all headaches. His lips brushed her forehead softly, sending a bit of magic into her; that would hopefully cause her to sleep many more hours than she normally would, perhaps giving her body a chance to recover before she fully awakened.  
  
Raistlin cast a transportation spell back to his cold tower. He appeared in the library, behind his apprentice. A smile threatened to tug at his lips as he coughed gently to get Dalamar's attention. The dark elf jumped considerably, his elven calm shattered. By the time Dalamar had turned, both of their masks were back on.  
  
"Shalifi, I did not hear you come in," the elf murmured.  
  
'Goddess, it's good to be home,' Raistlin thought to himself, as he breezed past his apprentice to start perusing the shelves.  
  
AN: Hey, sorry it's so short! I usually type more, but it's just not been coming to me lately. My mind's been trying to sort things out and deal with things (I've got a baby coming in about 8 months!!! Surprise me! I'm not even showing yet, and I want to go out and shop for maternity clothing. haha) and figure out if I want to go back to school in the fall... yadda yadda. So, I'll try to work on it more. I know what I want to happen, it's just the words aren't cooperating (yes, that's it, I'll blame the words..) Thank you so much to all of you for writing and telling me what you think!! I really love hearing from you, even if it's to complain. 


	11. Notes

Disclaimer: nope, still not mine.

A/N: Sorry that it's so fragmented. I'm not sure how to make it flow any better than with my little asterisks. It's also undoubtedly my shortest.

Ch 11: Notes

Ari leaned over the chamber pot in the corner, Raistlin's note clenched in her sweaty fist. She had never been so sick in her entire life. The spinning room had been replaced by throbbing vision; a nice change, but still not something she wanted to have happen to her. She wished she had a couple of bottles of aspirin because that's about how much she figured she'd need before calming the excavation going on in her brain.

Several minutes went by before she figured it was safe enough to scoot away from the offensive pot and read what the note said. With trembling hands she unfolded the note and smoothed it enough to read.

When you are finished painting,

Crumple this note,

Think of me

And you will be by my side.

'Apparently it's not crumpled enough already," she thought, regarding the somewhat mashed note. Carefully, she folded it and slipped it into her pocket. This gave her further determination to finish what she had started as fast as she could.

Ari got unsteadily to her feet, bracing herself upright using the table. She tottered to the door and down the hall to the kitchen. As she went, she tried to think through the constant hammering that was plaguing her brain. She knew a remedy for a hangover, having overheard it from her aunt. Tomatoes were great for treating hangovers; that was why drinking wine with an Italian meal was usually not a problem. Water was also sure to help flush out the toxins. So, finding both, she set herself down and resigned herself to eating as many tomatoes as possible, and drinking water until she felt like she would pop. If she did explode, her one consolation was that she would at least not be in misery any longer.

Back at the wall she worked very quickly. The colors seemed to fly on and likenesses jumped out of the paint. Every once in a while she would step back to review her work. Overall, she was pleased with how it was turning out. There was a unity to the piece and her figures weren't stiff. It was like a casual observer had photographed the scene before her, despite the artistic license that she had taken with some coloring and the obvious brush strokes. A couple more days and she would have all the details done of their faces and clothes.

It was slightly embarrassing to draw a crowd. Somehow, the guests of the Inn had found out when she worked on the mural and there would always be a few people sitting around, waiting for her to begin her nightly work. They didn't stay long, just long enough to watch her for a little bit before retiring back to their beds. No one offered conversation and she didn't make any as she worked tirelessly.

Little events like this were what made the time seem to pass quickly, rather than drag out like she had been dreading it would. A calm monotony had settled in the course of only a few days. That was why when the phone rang it was a complete shock.

Ariana stared at the noisy device as if she had never seen one in her entire life. It didn't look like it was going to stop as _Fur Elise_ continued to sing out, so she stepped towards it and answered it.

"Erm... hello?"

"Hi Sunshine," came the warm voice on the other end of the line, identifying himself as her grandfather.

"How... how am I picking up a signal?"

Her grandfather chuckled, "Oh, it was just a simple spell that I put on it. It would take longer than it's worth to explain it to you. I just called because we need you desperately back here."

"Okay. Could you give me a couple of more days? I need to say goodbye to someone."

"The best I can give you is five minutes. You know that little corporation of absolutely brilliant scientists we've been trying to get our hands on? The Ozman Corporation? Well, their people will only be in town today and we need to seal some sort of deal with them."

"You couldn't have given me any more notice?" A sinking feeling began in her stomach.

"No. We didn't even know that they were in town until a couple of hours ago. It was pure luck that they contacted us to arrange a meeting. You know what this means to us. You've got to come back."

"Can I come back after matters are all dealt with to properly say goodbye?" she asked, fingering the note Raistlin had given her. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket at all times.

"Of course, of course. You need to pack now and as soon as you can, press the star key on your cell phone. That will bring you immediately to the Centre. I'll have Alysa bring a suit or something for you to change into. The meeting is in an hour. See you soon."

"Okay, bye."

After she disconnected she stared at her phone for a moment. 'It'll be alright,' she thought, 'I'll come back and say goodbye to him then. He's probably busy and won't know if I don't show up for a few more days'. Having resolved this, she ran to her room, throwing things back into her duffle bag and straightening things up. She scrawled a quick note to Caramon and Tika, thanking them for letting her stay with them and letting her painting on her wall. She promised to come back and take her leave of them later in a more proper manner.

This note she left on the kitchen table, and taking a last look around, she pressed the star key on her cell and was gone.

Raistlin was preparing to leave his tower again. For someone who liked to never leave, he had been doing quite a bit of traveling lately. If he wasn't careful, he was going to destroy the rumor that he hadn't left his tower once in the two years since he had arrived. But this time it would be well worth it, an unexpected connection with a cleric.

He had heard of this Chrysania and was quite eager to meet her. Perhaps this would be the meeting that would provide him with the necessary means to enter the Abyss. He certainly hoped so.

In the back of his mind, he wondered where Ariana was. He had given her that message and had been half expecting her to show up only hours after he had arrived back home. That meant that he was only half disappointed when she didn't. But anytime now, he was sure she would show up... and then... well, he didn't know. The reality was that she either couldn't or wouldn't stay and give up her life on her planet; he wasn't asking her to anyway. He certainly would never give up what he had here willingly. This magic was his life. Even if he wanted to quit, he didn't know how or what he would do with his life. No, leaving here was not an option, no matter what she did to produce knots in his stomach.

Resolutely, he pulled up his hood, took up his staff and quit his tower.


	12. I Want Him

Disclaimer: DL and anything recognizable is not mine.

A/N: This will be my last chapter in this story. While I'm not too happy with middle bits, I think I've found proper closure to it. Thank you to my reviewers—you all have given me good comments (helpful and constructive and ego-boosting!). As a final review, I was wondering if you guys would think back over my story and comment upon the content, where the story went, what you liked/ didn't like, etc; just a general all-over review. It would be very helpful in cleaning up this work and also in my future endeavors. Thank you, again!!

Ch 12: I Want Him

What was supposed to only take a couple of hours over lunch, ended up in taking up the remainder of the working day. Ariana emerged from the conference room at six p.m. fairly exhausted. About five hours of talking and wheedling and coming close to bickering, an agreement of sorts had been arranged. There were more meetings lined up for the week, all were vital in the steps of corporate takeover. For a small group of underground scientists, the Ozman Corporation was not to be taken lightly.

There was paperwork to be done for tomorrow, rereading the agreement, reevaluating the promises and points made, then a report to be filed to the 'powers that be' of the Centre. Adjustments would be made tomorrow to fit everyone's liking and the whole process would continue—that is if the changes were appropriate. If someone felt like their toes were being crushed well before they needed to be, tempers would flare and there would be several meetings of consolation.

Thoughts of Raistlin were pushed to the back of her mind. If she even dared to think about him for two minutes she would fall behind in her paperwork for tomorrow and that could potentially screw up their relations with the Ozman Corporation. Needless to say, if that happened, she would probably die. Family or not, they needed little excuse to kill her. It was nice to be loved.

By the time she was done with everything she had just enough time to run home and grab a fresh set of clothes, eat a little, and come back for another grueling day. She made her way down the hall to where her cousin's office was. At this early hour she figured Alysa would either still be in, or would have arrived early for a new day. Alysa took after her mother and grandfather—they were both workaholics and practically lived at the Centre.

As expected, Alysa was still there, zoning out in front of her computer to what sounded like a game of War Craft-- the telltale signs that she had pulled another all-nighter. Ari knocked at the doorframe, startling the young woman.

Bright blue eyes flashed from the computer screen to meet hers. "What?" Alysa snapped, turning back to her computer as sounds of a battle raged on.

"Can I borrow your car? I need to get home and change." Ari leaned wearily against the frame of the door. She didn't know how Alysa could function on only a couple hours of sleep that were probably spent on the couch in her office.

The young woman snorted and pushed her shoulder-length honey blond hair out of her eyes, "Yeah, no problem. I won't need it until tonight."

"Trust me, I won't need it for that long. It looks like another long day ahead."

"Ozmans, eh?"

"Unfortunately," Ari righted herself and stepped forward to claim the keys.

"I don't know what we're thinking. It's not like we don't have enough people here doing research." Alysa sighed, standing up to rummage in her skirt pocket for her keys. Alysa was much taller than Ariana, standing at about 5' 8" where Ariana was only about 4' 5".

"They're fresh blood. Besides, I don't think the Centre can turn from a potential conquest." She took the proffered keys, "Thanks. I'll see you in an hour or so." Ari gave her cousin a quick hug before heading home.

The short reprieve was a welcome one as were the subsequent ones that occasionally occurred that week. Ari was kept busy enough to prevent her from doing much thinking other than her case and clients. Negotiations proved to be difficult and only eased up with the final day of talking. Both sides were content with the agreement and showed their approval with a celebratory dinner.

Ariana was expected to attend, and show up she did, but she managed to slip away before things got too terribly roaring drunk. There was really no need for her to remain and she figured no one would miss her after a couple of rounds with the wine bottle. Since the dinner was held in one of the banquet rooms in the Centre, she went to visit her father who lived on the lower levels.

They had a proper room for him there, where the staff could keep an eye on him though she knew she would find him in the air ducts of the subbasements. It was his favorite place to be and somewhere where she felt safe and secure. She had practically grown up in the air ducts of the Centre and learned about the company while observing its most powerful people through the vents, listening to secrets she had been too young to comprehend.

She slipped off her high-heeled shoes, her favorites for they increased her stature a few inches, and climbed onto a chair so that she could reach one of the air vent grails. She slipped it out of the wall and hoisted herself up into the metal passageway. From the map in her mind, she knew that she was only a few minutes away from where the vents opened up into a kind of chamber where her father would surely be.

As foreseen, he was there, curly auburn hair bent over a bit of cardboard in his hands. It was a crackerjack box that had been disassembled and was not in the process of being reassembled into a small chair.

"Hi, Daddy," Ari called out softly as she slipped into the 'room'.

He glanced up, a long smile spreading across his face. "Pretty," he told her.

"Thanks, I cut it when I was on vacation. Officially, I'm not supposed to be back yet, but they needed me, and since I was here I thought I'd say 'hello' to you." She sat down next to him. "How's the doll house furniture going?"

Angelo gestured to a low shelf that contained a nearly complete set of dining room chairs and long table, several kitchen appliances and two complete furnishings for bedrooms. They were all neatly painted and looked exactly like a small duplicate of what they were supposed to be.

"Hey, you're getting there. I should help you when I get back. I've got to go and say goodbye... or something. Maybe I'll stay there longer. I'm not sure. It depends on, um, things," she shifted slightly, a little uncomfortable of saying too much. Ari wasn't sure how much he really understood some of the things she wanted to talk about. Her grandfather would psychoanalyze her, should she bring up her concerns, which left her cousin to talk to. That would happen after everything played itself out.

Her father took her hand in his larger one, "Confused happy?"

"And then some," Ari responded. She looked up at him, "I'll get through it. That's why I'm going back. Then I can be one thing and be content with it." At his furrowed brow, she reassured him, "I'll be fine. It's just a 'boy thing'."

He nodded, patting her hand gently.

"Well, I'll leave you to your work. I've got to go before he thinks I've ditched him for good." Ari leaned over and kissed his warm cheek. "Love you,"

She had barely closed up the grate before she yanked out the slip of a note that Raistlin had given her earlier and crumpled it. A little flutter of anticipation surfaced in her stomach as she was whisked out of the hallway, eyes tightly shut. It felt like her bones were being pulled from her skin while there was a fierce wind whistling in her ears and chilling her to the bone. As soon as the sensations stopped, she tumbled to the ground in an undignified heap.

"You!" gasped a voice behind her. Ari stood, dusting off her cream colored suit and turned around to find Dalamar, pale as death and propped up in a chair.

"Hi. Is Raistlin here? He gave me this little paper to crumble that would take me to him but I guess it didn't work, because I don't see him."

"Where he is you cannot follow," Dalamar replied gravely. "Now move, you will block his return."

"Wha—"she began, but was pulled away into a corner by Tarrant; he had been lurking there from the beginning.

At her protest, he hushed her, "Quiet. You've been gone for a long time. Things have changed."

"A week—"

"No, quite a few months, actually. Now close your mouth so that I can explain." Tarrant leaned down and began to whisper the account, so as not to disturb the waiting mage. "I am here to aid Raistlin, should he re-enter Krynn." No sooner had he spoken those words, than Caramon stepped through the portal in front of Dalamar. Tanis leapt from the shadows to take the woman from Caramon's arms and allow the warrior to move unhindered.

It seemed to happen in slow motion, what happened next. When given time to reflect upon it later, Ari would compare it to a cheesy moment in a movie when everything was slowed down to accentuate the supposed drama. Later, she would laugh, but for the present, all she could do was watch the events in horror. Someone was yelling for Caramon to close the portal as an enormous hand was reaching towards it. No Raistlin, just a malevolent hand. She began to struggle to do something, drew in a breath to protest, but Tarrant's cold hand clamped over her mouth and one steel arm wound around her shoulders, making movement impossible. All she could do was watch with sinking despair as Caramon held up Raistlin's staff to close the portal on his twin.

The lights from the portal went out with such a suddenness that little after-images glowed in everyone's vision. It took a minute for wounded eyes to adjust to the scant candles dimly lit.

Ari's struggles were growing fainter as the realization of what had happened sunk in. The tears on her cheeks were scalding in comparison to the cold hand still on her face. As soon as Tarrant released her, she choked out, "Is he coming back?"

"No. He had sacrificed himself so that Krynn would be safe from the Dark Queen," Dalamar intoned gravely, rising with the help of Caramon.

"You can't open that door-thing again?"

Everyone looked at her in silence.

"Well... how can I get to him?"

"Only the gods can reach him now," Tanis mumbled, shifting the woman he held into a more comfortable position. Ari supposed this was Lady Chrysania.

"Where is the nearest temple then?" she persisted.

"There is one, outside of the Grove in the city, but it will most likely be in ruin. A battle has been raging," the dark elf informed her, moving out of the room with Caramon.

Ari took up Tarrant's hand, "Come on, then. Magic us to the temple."

He looked coldly down on her, "Us?"

She glanced up at him, gathering up her nerve to continue to hold his hand. "Yes, 'us'. You helped get him into this mess, what with all of your scheming, so you can help get him out. All I want you to do is help me find this temple, then you can go back to whatever world you came from."

He thought a moment. He had promised not to turn on Raistlin until their mission was accomplished. Seeing as how their plan had failed, he wasn't sure if his oath was still viable, but if it was, he had better go along and try to help Ari. A promise was a promise after all.

They looked around at the ruin that surrounded them. Ari eyed the crumbled building in front of her skeptically, "Are you sure this is the temple? Everything looks the same to me."

Tarrant nodded. "Of course. I can feel the energy coming off of it, which means that this is no building like the rest. Go on and see if there's an altar or something inside."

"You're not coming with me?"

"I... can't. It won't let me. Apparently, this is a temple dedicated to the gods of good. I happen to be evil. Even in its ruined state the temple is guarded against me."

"Oh. Pity. Well, wait out here for me, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, she ducked into the wrecked building. Around her there were dirty white-robed figures picking up the large pieces of pottery, sweeping the debris, and gathering together to pray. Off of the corridor she found several rooms that had not collapsed completely. In the second one she looked into she found what she was looking for.

Once a marvelous, complete piece of marble, the altar was now reduced to a shadow of its former beauty. Large chunks of the carved marble were gone and most of the carefully carved figures were missing appendages of some sort. A massive crack ran down the middle, spider-veining into little troublesome tributaries. It was before this that she knelt, heedless of the filth and dust around her.

"Look," she whispered, feeling quite a bit foolish, "this isn't how I talk to my god, but you guys are a lot more interactive with your people, so I figured this is the best way to do it. I don't know if you hang around your alters, waiting for people to talk to you, or if you're the omniscient kind or what, but I'm going to give it my best go." Ari paused. "You know, you would make this a whole lot easier if you'd just talk back a little."

She got to her feet and dug around in her pocket; finding a safety pin, she dug it into the palm of her hand. The blood that trickled from the wound she smeared on the top of the altar. When no more blood came she made gash after gash in other places, keeping up a steady flow of her fluid. "I hope this gets your attention because I don't know how long I can keep this up. Maybe if I'm here long enough you will hear my prayers. I want Raistlin Majere. I will take him back with me. He will never disturb you again. I will keep him safe and secure. Just end this needless absence from life. He is too full of potential and dreams for you to take him away. Let him live a little longer." She swayed a little bit, made dizzy by watching her blood leave her.

"Do you hear me?! Answer me!" Ariana screamed, "I will not leave until something happens. I will stand here until I fall, and when I fall I will lie here until I die. Even in my death will I plague you with my decomposing body; you will have killed an innocent. If you don't believe me, wait around. I will be here forever until you speak to me and give me what I desire. You don't know me, and I don't know you. Just give me what I want and I will bother you no longer." She continued to furiously gouge her hands until she felt a warm darkness tinge her vision. It was really amazing, she thought, to float so gently to the ground. She didn't even feel her forehead strike the bloody crumbled altar, though it did make such pretty colors that faded to white in her delirium.

The white didn't fade away to blackness, but remained white and grew even brighter, if such a thing was possible.

"She's made a mess on my alter, as if my clerics weren't busy enough cleaning the rest of the temple. It had better not stain," grumped an older man's voice.

"Hush, dearest," replied a woman's soft voice. "She did what she thought was best. It did get your attention."

Ari blinked a couple of times, but the whiteness would not go away. She sat up and beheld a chamber not unlike the one she had just been in. The difference was that this room was how it must have looked before it was ruined. Everything was pristine and white except for the altar where a man and a woman were standing; it was drenched scarlet. Ari looked down at her hands. They were whole, without a trace of a wound. She looked back up and found them looking at her.

"Well, we're listening now. What do you have to say for yourself?" the man demanded.

As much as she focused on him, she could not decide what he looked like. One minute he appeared an aged man, the next a young warrior. The woman beside him also fluctuated in appearance. "I want him, please, sir."

"Now she asks politely," the man raved to no one in particular. "What would you do with him, little girl?"

"I would love him and take care of him. I would make sure he didn't come back to Krynn to bother you."

"How would you do that?"

"Any way that I could manage, sir. I don't really know." She stood up to face the couple.

"I don't see the harm," the woman said to her companion. "We could seal Krynn from her world and insure that he never finds his way back. Let him have this, he did save the world."

"He would have conquered it if he could have," the man argued.

"Please? Do it for her, love," she coaxed. At his assent, the woman took Ari by the hand and guided her to another room. This room was just as white as the last one, and plain, save for the four-poster bed in the middle. Under the covers slumbered Raistlin. His golden skin was gone, restored to a human pallor, but his hair remained bone white. A small smile touched his lips, one that had rarely been seen by any. He seemed at peace.

"Would you disturb his rest?" the woman asked, softly.

Ari brushed her fingers across his cheek. "I would. This inactivity does not do him justice. His mind is so sharp and alive, he needs to be conscious."

"I do not know if he will appreciate being banished from his world to stay with you."

"He needs to live. If he does not choose to live with me, then I will not force him to. I will help him find living and then leave him, should he desire it. I really believe this is the best course." She sat on the edge of the bed and gathered the sleeping mage into her arms.

"As you wish. I will send the two of you immediately."

"Wait. There is a man outside your temple waiting for me. Can he come, too?"

"Do you always take in strays?" the woman asked, bemused.

"He's been so helpful to me. I wouldn't feel right abandoning him like this."

The woman smiled. "Good luck to you."

The white faded down into gray. The familiar gray of the Centre walls. Home.


End file.
